Einstein Cross
by NorthPawRun
Summary: It was Sara Sidle, not Warrick Brown, who left their crime scene - resulting in their partner getting shot. Now, Grissom calls in his good friend, CSI Catherine Willows, to investigate. Reworking of the early events that brought these characters together. As usual will be a heavily C/S focused story, with possible eventual relationship depending on where the story takes us.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone, hope you are all doing well. Decided to give another story a go and will continue if people are interested? Have had this idea for a while and finally decided to work it into an actual story. I think by now you all know my style - but this story will be lots of ups and downs, dark and light. Hope you guys will join me on another twisty, winding C/S journey.**

**It will be quite obvious from the beginning, but this story is a stand alone from the other stories I have written.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of the characters - I make no monetary or other gain from this story.**

**Take care and enjoy :)**

* * *

CHAPTER 1

_"Fate leads the willing, and drags along the reluctant." _

_Seneca_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

I swore to myself long ago that I would never return to Vegas. Ever. I told myself that even if the world were ending and Vegas were the last standing city, I would jump into the blazing inferno that is the rest of the world instead of stepping a single foot back onto Vegas sand.

But then, he called.

Gilbert Grissom.

The one shining beacon in that entire sordid city. The person that reminds me that perhaps not everything, not everyone, in that city is soulless. That perhaps there is some decency holding out somewhere. Granted, you probably have to look harder for it in Vegas than you do in other cities, but he gives me hope that if you are willing to look there may be some reward for your efforts.

I used to live in Vegas. Right after high school. It was the ultimate rebellion against my family, particularly my mother. I had always had dreams of running off to Vegas and becoming a huge star, and one day I decided to stop dreaming and do something about it.

Ultimately, my dreams fell a bit short. I was a star, alright, but in a strip club as opposed to the big stage. I fell for the sleazy lines of a two bit scum bag named Eddie. Hell, we even got married. I never saw our union as true love, just another way to hurt my mother. My mother who most certainly never even got an invite to the ramshackle wedding ceremony.

When Eddie got violent, though, I was out. No rebellious phase was worth that.

Not when we had a daughter.

I took our daughter, Lindsey, hopped on a plane, and promptly moved back to Montana. Moved back in with my mother who I had spent the last four years of my life spiting.

She was the only one who would take me in.

Now, ironically, when my life is finally stable for the first time, I'm heading back to Vegas, the very pinnacle of all my past bad decisions.

But, when Gil called asking for my help, I couldn't say no.

Not to the man who in more ways than one saved my life.

Now, he needs me to help save one of his own CSIs.

Shaking my head, I run my fingers through my windblown hair as my car races through the countryside. Looking next to me, Lindsey is sound asleep, having worn herself out with excitement the day before.

Lindsey was thrilled for a vacation in the big city with glittering lights and magical hosts of characters.

Me? I'm excited to see my good friend.

But, I'm also terrified that I will fail to help him, fail to successfully return the favor of all the times he's helped me.

* * *

The gun hits the table with a hard, metallic thud.

"Badge as well."

A pause, then the badge joins the gun on the cold, metal table.

"Sara…I…"

The brunette doesn't wait for a response, pushing away and heading to the door.

"We done?"

"Yes." Another hesitant, almost apologetic pause. "But please don't leave the area."

Sidle's jaw tightens, the dark expression on her face only growing stormier.

Pulling the door open, she quickly leaves the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hallway until they, and she, disappear.

"That her?" I question, though I really need no further clarification of who, and what, I just witnessed.

What I just witnessed is every CSI's worst nightmare played out in front of me.

"Yes," Gil nods quietly. "Sara Sidle."

"Your favorite CSI."

"That's why I need you handling this, Catherine," Gil doesn't miss a beat at my comment. "I can't have any claims of favoritism. Not regarding something as serious as this."

"If I find her culpable…"

I don't need to finish the statement.

"Then you do what you need to do."

I nod, eyes still on the empty hall where the brunette disappeared moments before.

I have no intentions of doing anything aside from my job. My relationship with Grissom will have no bearing here.

Yes, he asked for my help because he cares about Sidle. But, he asked most of all for my help in seeking the truth.

The truth may not be something my good friend wants to hear, but that's my job.

The job I'm able to do because of him.

"It's really good to see you, Gil," I repeat for the second time since I arrived.

Squeezing his arm, I let out a breath.

"Damn good."

* * *

**AN: Short chapter to start things off and set the stage. Away we go from here :) Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and expressed interest in this story - I appreciate your support of my writing. Still baffles me that anyone has any interest in reading what comes out of this head of mine. **

**Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 2

_"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances. If there is any reaction, both are transformed." _

_-Carl Jung_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"That looks like it hurts."

The only other occupant of this small room doesn't answer, simply tossing more things around in her locker before lifting out an old book bag.

Slinging it over her shoulder, my angry companion turns to leave.

"Sidle."

Pausing slightly, she still doesn't turn around.

"We haven't been formally introduced, I'm – "

"I know who you are, Miss Willows."

I hesitate a moment, but quickly suppress my surprise. Sidle is a CSI after all, and there can't be too many other new faces roaming around CSI headquarters today.

"Then you know why I'm here."

Sidle's jaw tightening is the only indication she heard me.

"We need to talk."

She finally turns, giving me her full focus.

Here, this close, despite the dim lighting it's clear to see that Sidle's CSI file picture doesn't do her justice.

She's intense, just like in her photo, but at a level that the 2D image can't capture. Sidle's tall, all but feeling like she's towering over me, and I'm the one with heels on. Her gaze is dark, like her features, and the light hazel specks in her eyes don't do much to lighten her glare.

Sharp, angled features, tight jaw.

The girl looks like she's ready to either bolt or punch someone. But, judging from her rapidly reddening knuckles, I'm hoping the violent attack on her locker I walked in on moments before has rid her of that particular impulse for a while.

Otherwise, I'd find her a hell of a lot more intimidating than I currently do.

But, I refuse to let even the slightest hint of intimidation pass through me. I'm here to investigate Sidle. For her role in the shooting of another CSI.

If anyone here is going to be intimidated, it's sure as hell not going to be me.

Sara Sidle strikes me as a girl with a chip on her shoulder, someone who is used to being able to push people away.

But, she's never met me before.

When she starts to turn away from me a second time, I reach out and pull her back around.

Ripping her arm from my grasp, she glares at me darkly.

"Get your hands off me."

Wow.

Sidle is going to be a treat to work with.

Gil so owes me for this.

"We need to talk," I repeat myself slowly, as if she's hearing impaired and not just being insolent.

"Not now."

"Oh?" I query, crossing my arms over my chest. "Then when do you propose, Sidle?"

I shrug. "Maybe we can grab dinner, some coffee. Find a more convenient time to discuss the fact that your partner is lying in a hospital bed with a bullet in his chest. You know, whatever works with your schedule…"

Sara's jaw is so tight I'm afraid she's going to crack a tooth.

Now that I've gotten the girl's attention, I step closer.

"Make no mistake, Sidle," I caution her tightly, eyes meeting hers with my own intensity. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for Gabriel Williams and his family. They deserve answers and you sure as hell aren't going to stand in my way of getting them."

Yes, I'm sympathetic to what Sidle is going through right now.

But, I'm a hell of a lot more sympathetic to what Gabriel Williams and his family are going through right now.

Sidle's eyes are still glaring into mine, but they seem to have lost just a slight amount of anger. Instead, they start to fill with other, sadder emotions.

I suspect that has something to do with my words about Gabriel's family.

"I.."

Sara swallows before taking a slight step back.

"Where do you want to do this?"

* * *

"They aren't on," I tell the other occupant of this room. "For now."

I know my choice to do this particular activity in one of Gil's interrogation rooms isn't exactly the most polite move on my part. But, I'm not here to be polite.

I'm here to get answers, and close a case.

While the setting may be overly formal, and a bit rude, I'm not playing around.

A CSI was shot while his partner left the scene. This is serious. And I'm not going to treat it as anything but exactly that.

Sidle sends one last look at the cameras in the corner of the room before glancing at the back mirror.

"It's just us."

Looking down, Sara swallows against my reading her thoughts.

"Sit."

She hesitates, eying the table with dark eyes.

"Now."

Finally, apparently deciding to pick her battles, Sara sits her tall frame across from me. Pushing her chair back, she seems like she wants nothing else than to be as far from this table, as far from me, as possible.

And, I'm sure she's not used to sitting here, on the suspect's side of the room no less.

"Let's talk about your scene. What happened, Miss Sidle?"

"You know what happened. It's all in my statement."

"I want to hear it from you," I don't waver. "And, let's both be honest, the statement you gave left a lot to be desired in regards to details."

"It's what I know."

"Not nearly all of what you know."

Sara's eyes remain averted, watching the floor, the mirror, the table.

"Let's start with the scene. Walk me through it."

"Standard B and E at a residence in Henderson. One victim, female. Shot in the kitchen."

"Who arrived first?"

"We arrived at the same time."

"What time did you get there?"

"Eleven thirteen at night."

I raise a brow.

"I looked at the clock on the dash before I got out of the car."

"Who processed inside?"

"Gabriel."

Sara clears her throat, head lowering slightly. "Sorry, Investigator Williams."

I continue to study the woman before me.

"You took perimeter?"

Sara nods, "I joined him inside about an hour after we got there. Wasn't much evidence to collect outside the house."

"Then what?"

"The coroner came and went at about twelve-thirty, we finished working our way through the house."

"When did you leave?"

Sara swallows. "About twenty five minutes later. We had collected all of the evidence and needed to take final photos and secure the samples we'd collected."

"And you left Investigator Williams to do that?"

"Yes," Sara answers quietly.

"Why?"

Sara's eyes follow a deep scratch in the metal of the table.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," I offer when the brunette remains silent. "It's standard procedure to complete the scene together with your partner, yes? At least that's how we do things in Montana."

Sara remains quiet.

"Did you verify there were officers at the scene when you left?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I thought Gabe would-" she clears her throat. "Sorry, I thought Investigator Williams would be just another few minutes. Get the final shots and head back to the lab."

"You said you arrived together…how did you leave without him?"

"We drove separately."

I cap my pen, taking a deep breath in before letting it out.

"Where did you go, Miss Sidle?" I shake my head. "What was so important that you broke protocol, leaving your partner alone at the scene without officers?"

Sara's eyes are dark, her hands clenched tightly together.

"I read your file, Sidle," I state. "You don't make mistakes."

Sara turns her head away.

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not you," I counter. "Not a mistake like that."

It's true. The brunette's record is impeccable. So early in her career, but has the highest solve rate in the lab, beating out even Grissom. Near perfect scores on all of her competency exams, her case reports and documentation without one single oversight. Overtime maxed out nearly every month, numerous conference attendances. It's clear Sara Sidle is a woman who is not only brilliant when it comes to her job, but she's also passionate.

People like her don't simply break a dozen protocols and waltz away from an active crime scene.

Hell, if I weren't here investigating her, I'd be offering her a job on my team in Montana.

"I'll ask you again," I break into my own thoughts. "Why did you leave that scene?"

Straightening up, Sara finally meets my eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"I disagree," I counter. "Strongly."

"I left the scene, simple as that," Sidle stands her ground. "Where I was doesn't change that or make that any less of an issue."

She's right, in one sense. Where Sidle went isn't nearly as important as the sole fact that she went _somewhere _during an active case. But, I'm not willing to let this go. Sara Sidle got up and left that scene for some reason. And, I'm not going to rest until I know exactly what that reason is.

"We're not leaving until you tell me what the hell was so important for you to leave that scene."

"Then I hope you brought some water."

I study the young woman before me, the dark, angry eyes. The tense posture. The stark features.

I was wrong when I thought Sidle has a chip on her shoulder.

It's not a chip. It's a fucking canyon.

"I'm not trying to be difficult."

As if reading my thoughts, her dark, smoky voice breaks the silence, her words echoing slightly through the cold, metal room.

"Then what, Sidle?" I toss down my pen in frustration. "Because that's exactly how it appears to me. It appears to me like you're more worried about your own damn agenda than you are about giving that poor family the answers they deserve."

Sara stands, angrily pushing away from her chair.

"I…" she swallows tightly. "I swear to you, I've told you what I can."

I get up from my seat, matching her gaze.

"What are you trying to hide?"

Sara remains silent, her expression as tight as my own.

"I will find out, you know," I tell her honestly. "I'm a CSI, and a damn good one at that. You know you can't hide this from me for long."

"Look," Sara bites out. "I walked away from the scene. Gabe is in a hospital bed fighting for his life because of it." She raises her hands angrily. "That's all you need to know. Go file your damn report."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I ask the younger woman. "Put in there that you were negligent, then just walk away from this." I wait a pause. "What is it? The real truth of where you were will bury you further? Is that it? Any hope of continuing as a CSI will be over if I find out what you were doing? Destroy your reputation?"

"That's not…"

Sara lets out a frustrated breath, pacing back and forth along the far wall of the room, fists clenched so tightly that her abused knuckles, previously red and raw, are now almost white.

"I'm not trying to save my own ass here, Miss Willows. If I were, don't you think I'd be trying a hell of a lot harder than this to justify my actions?"

"That what _are _you trying to do, Sidle?" I glare. "Besides piss me the hell off."

Sara shakes her head, expression dark as she pushes her fingers into her temples.

Looking up, she casts a brief glance at the mirror before she takes a deep breath.

Then, right in front of me, I watch her replace her stoic mask.

The anger, the frustration, all of it tucked deeply back inside to be replaced by an expression so cold I find it so much more disconcerting than her anger.

"Are we done?"

Having nothing to hold her here on right now, I have no choice but to nod.

"Sidle."

She pauses with her hand on the door.

"I will figure this out," I promise her darkly. "And God help you when I do."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks everyone who reviewed, it really means a lot. You guys are the best, and you honestly help keep the writing going - as ****foodwise alluded to, I'm never sure how many people are actually still interested in reading CSI fanfiction as it seems to have greatly dispersed as time went on and characters left the show and such. Nice to know there are still some people out there reading these as CSI is the fandom that I will always call home as well. Guess I'm just not ready to let some of these characters go for good quite yet.  
**

**Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 3**  
**

_"Determine that the thing can and shall be done, and then we shall find the way." _

_-Abraham Lincoln_

* * *

CATHERINE POV_  
_

"Are all your CSIs as charming as Sidle?"

Gil looks up from his paperwork as I take the liberty of placing myself in the empty seat across from his desk.

Taking off his glasses, he leans back in his chair.

"I take it your inquiry is not going well?"

"What do you think?"

Gil sighs, looking like he's aged years these last couple days.

"I think Sara can be difficult," he compromises, holding up a hand when I send him a look. "But she's a damn good CSI, Catherine. And a damn good person. There's no way she just up and left that scene without good reason."

"Then why won't she just tell me?" I ask, frustration coloring every word. "If her reasoning was so noble, then why the hell is she playing this game with me?"

"I don't know," Gil admits, the truth behind his words clear. Just as clear as the hurt. Like Sidle leaving me out is one thing, but betraying the friendship the brunette has with Grissom is another thing entirely.

"She's been distant for a while," Gil confesses quietly. "The team had picked up on it, but I think we all figured it was Sara just being Sara."

"Meaning?"

"Sara is quiet," Gil says. "Keeps to herself. She's kind, polite, and always has everyone's back, but she doesn't really let people in the same way they seem to let her in."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," Gil answers softly. "It's just how she is."

"But it got worse?"

Nodding, Grissom rests his elbows on his desk. "She used to at least join us for some breakfasts, drinks after shift. But I started having a higher show rate than she did."

I smile, knowing that for Sara to be showing up to social events less than Gil means the girl pretty much wasn't showing up at all.

"She just," Gil sighs. "Seemed to shut down any time someone would ask her about anything remotely personal. She was never one to share, but she was never one to outright avoid people either."

"Anyone in particular she was avoiding?"

"No," Gil shakes his head. "Just the team in general. Got here before everyone, left well after everyone. Worked in the far labs in the back, where she wouldn't run into anyone. Her work didn't suffer…so…"

"So you let her be."

Gil nods, the thoughts running through his head clear to read by the slump to his shoulders.

"You couldn't have done anything to prevent this, Gil."

Looking up, Gil nods, his eyes thanking me for my words. But, they also look less than convinced.

"Whatever's going on with Sidle is her responsibility," I tell him seriously, reaching out to place my hand over his. "Not yours. Just like what happened at that scene. No one's responsibility but hers."

"I just," Gil trails off before looking up at me. "She's bailed out every member of this team nearly half a dozen times. Covered for all of us at some point in one way or another. This is…"

Gil swallows tightly.

"This is new for us. Having her be the one in trouble."

He laughs darkly.

"But perhaps it's because we were all too damn blind to see she was in trouble all along."

* * *

"You have Gil blaming himself."

"Excuse me?"

Sara looks over my shoulder, like she's expecting someone else to be standing at her door besides just me.

"Can I come in?" I ask, knowing this is not a conversation to be having in her hallway.

"Why?"

I raise a brow.

Apparently hearing the rudeness in her own statement, Sara takes a reluctant step back, gesturing to her open doorway.

Moving past her, I enter her apartment.

Looking around, I note the décor, the furnishings, everything I can about the space.

I'm not subtle in my observations, either. Sidle knows I'm here investigating her, and that I'm going to do everything I can to learn everything I can.

As my eyes pan over the interesting art pieces on the wall, landscapes that look sketched, I gesture to them, impressed.

"Your work?"

Sara doesn't answer, simply crossing her arms over her chest.

"What did you want, Miss Willows?"

"Gil seems to think you're in some sort of trouble," I state, respecting her decision to get back to business.

After all, I don't think the answers I'm seeking lie in the pencil strokes of her pictures.

Beautiful as they are.

At Sara's puzzled expression, I clarify.

"That you've been in some sort of trouble, even prior to this current situation."

Sara's eyes narrow.

"Why would he think that?"

"Apparently when quiet people become even quieter, it raises suspicion. Even when they are as good at hiding things as I'm beginning to suspect you are."

Shaking her head, Sara shifts her hands to her jeans pockets.

"Nothing's going on." She meets my eyes.

"You weren't withdrawing from your team like he claims?" I push. "Your colleagues wouldn't say that you were either, if I were to ask them?"

Sara's expression shifts, darkening slightly.

"Why does this matter?" she asks honestly. "Why do you keep pushing your way into this like there's something deeper to uncover?"

Sara's voice is dark, tone low.

"I made an error in judgement, left an active crime scene. My partner is fighting for his life because of it. End of story." She shakes her head. "End of your report."

"Why is it that you keep trying to dissuade me from 'pushing my way into this'?" I counter. "If there's really nothing 'deeper to uncover'?"

"Because it's a waste of your time."

I send Sara a look that expresses that yet again she needs to try better than that.

"Because it doesn't matter," she states tightly. "Gabe got shot. Because of me. End of story. Stop poking around my life like it's going to give you some magic answers to all your damn questions. I've already given you the answers you need. Case closed."

"Not anymore."

Sara watches me, eyes narrowing slightly as she tries to make out the meaning behind my words.

"Maybe it didn't matter as much when we last spoke," I state, voice growing stone sober. "But it sure as hell matters now. For Gabriel's family. But also for you. This case is no longer an IA inquiry, Sidle. It's now a criminal case."

She continues to watch me, intuitive eyes searching my own.

I watch her body language slowly morph from frustrated to hesitant.

Nervous.

"What are you saying, Miss Willows?"

I take a slow breath. There's more than one reason for this particular house call. And, this reason is one that I loathe having to do.

"Gabriel Williams died an hour ago. Complications from internal bleeding from the shooting."

Everything is silent.

The apartment.

The air around us.

Sara.

Her gaze keeps searching mine, like she's trying to figure out if this is some sort of morbid trick.

I let her see the sad truth in my expression.

I wish like hell Gabriel didn't die, and I take no pleasure in informing Sidle of his passing.

"He _died_, Sidle. This isn't a game anymore."

Sara turns away, rubbing her temples with a hand that I realize is shaking.

The girl is damn good at masking her emotions, but that lone action lets me see through her current façade.

Just like in the locker room yesterday, she can stare you down and make it seem like everything is fine. And, if I hadn't walked in on her beating the shit out of her locker, I may have believed it. Just like I may have believed her stoic façade now if it weren't for that same hand, now bruised in deep shades of red, shaking despite her best efforts to control it.

"Stop fighting me, Sidle." I beg quietly. "Please let me at least help them in the small way of giving them answers as to why he died. They deserve at least that much, yes?"

"I can't," Sara whispers out, her eyes lowered and her hands now trebling so much that she shoves them deep in her pockets to try to hide it from me. "I'm sorry."

Breathing out, she shakes her head.

"I'm not trying to deny them answers. I'm not trying to be obstructive or difficult. I'm not trying to be this terrible person that you seem to keep believing I am."

Her eyes are on the carpet before she finally drags them up to mine.

"Please walk away from this," she requests, voice so sincere it nearly breaks under its own emotion. "You think the answers you're seeking will make things better, but they won't. You need to stop pushing and digging into this, Miss Willows. You need to close this case and go back to Montana."

I shake my head tightly, her genuine tone giving me pause, but her words putting me right back into the reason I'm here.

"Walk away from getting that family the answers they deserve? No way. And honestly, shame on you for asking me to."

Stepping again slightly closer to the tense younger woman, I shift my head to the side, trying to study the defensive girl before me and figure out what in the hell her deal is with this.

She claims to not want to be obstructive, but she's doing exactly that.

No reasoning, no explanations, just continuous refusal to share anything regarding this case with no indication as to why.

"Why the hell did you leave that scene, Sidle?" I press directly, sick of playing these games with her. "Because you were off doing something stupid?"

I gesture to the coffee table in her living room.

"Because you were off getting drunk or getting high? Is that what this is all about?"

She follows my gaze to the empty bottles of alcohol that stand out in her otherwise impeccably tidy home. The bottle of what looks like some sort of prescription medication laying mere inches from the alcohol.

"No matter where you were," I tell her tightly. "His family deserves to know what led up to his passing. They need closure. Not some strung out CSI trying to keep her job."

Sara shakes her head, "I wasn't…I wouldn't…"

She looks like I slapped her by just suggesting what I did.

"Those pills?" she bites out. "Are my fucking migraine medication. And the alcohol is from last night, obviously off duty and not on call."

"If you aren't hiding something, then why the hell are you refusing to work with me?!" I question sincerely. "If you aren't trying to cover for yourself, then why the hell are you doing this?"

Sara's eyes meet mine, and I nearly step back at the emotions they hold.

The anger is gone. Replaced instead by complete, utter devastation.

It's like she wants to say something, but knows that she can't.

Then, nearly as quickly as I saw it, it's gone. Looking away, she once again tries to tuck her emotions safely back inside. Only the slight shaking of her hands gives her away.

"Tell them whatever you want," she whispers out. "Whatever they need for closure. I was high, I was drunk – whatever you want the story to be, you have my blessing."

"I want to tell them the truth."

"Then you'll have to do that on your own," Sara states. "Because I refuse to do that to them. The truth in this case isn't closure, Miss Willows."

Swallowing tightly, Sara clenches her jaw.

"Now please get the hell out of my home."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. As always, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate your taking the time to share your thoughts with me.**

**And, sb, thanks for the feedback, I'll try to keep it in mind as we go forward. As for the part about the 'girl' references – part of it is intended to be slightly rude and off putting. Maybe I'm the only one, but seems to me like the way an early Catherine would talk to/think of an early Sara. Cath not intending to be completely arrogant, but seeing herself as a CSI much further in her career, and life, than Sara who is still likely barely out of graduate school at this point. And, also, just a bit in general always seemed to me the way Catherine speaks to people sometimes, even when they are still relatively 'strangers' to her – such as in early CSI episode "Organ Grinder" (or whatever the episode was where they were talking about murder central) when Catherine hands Sara her kit in the hallway and says "All yours, girl." I appreciate your feedback.**

**Everyone take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 4

"_Only a very bad theologian would confuse the certainty that follows revelation with the truths that are revealed. They are entirely different things." _

_-_Denis Diderot

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You told her?"

Gil looks upset, bordering on angry.

"Someone had to tell her, Gil," I say calmly. "She would've seen it on the news any minute, and she deserved to hear it from one of us."

"From one of her team members, yes," Gil corrects. "Not someone she barely knows who's here investigating her."

I watch my longtime friend, the rare emotions in his eyes. I know news of Gabriel's death has hit everyone on this team hard. But, especially Gil who always seems to become a mentor to those around him whether he wants to be or not. No doubt he and Gabriel were close. Just like he and Sidle are. The only thing worse than losing one friend, is having that loss linked to the actions of another, even closer, friend.

"I didn't want you to have to do it," I confess, the words making their way quietly from my lips. "That sort of news…" I let out a breath, "She already hates me, no reason I shouldn't be the one to tell her."

Gil takes off his glasses silently, and I know him well enough to know he's still pissed at me for telling Sidle about Gabriel, but I know that he's also relieved. My longtime friend is never good with emotions or heavy topics on a good day. Something like this, as serious as this, it would have sent him to a very uncomfortable place.

Knowing him, he would have paced outside Sidle's apartment for hours before working up the courage to tell her.

He didn't deserve that angst. And, his relationship with Sidle didn't deserve that terrible memory.

"I'm sorry, Gil." My hand reaches out, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm really sorry about Gabe."

The room falls silent, both of us knowing there's really nothing further to be said.

* * *

Now that Gabriel has passed away from his injuries, this case is a criminal case, just like I told Sidle.

That means I have about a week to complete my inquiry and submit it to the DA as part of the official workup. It will be presented, along with whatever evidence IA wants to provide, to the DA for a decision about being tried in a criminal court.

A case like this will absolutely get approved.

Then, the judge rules as to whether to proceed with an official criminal trial.

And, finally, the trial itself.

"Pick up, damn it," I curse, hearing the phone ringing and ringing just like it has the last hour.

"_You've reached Sara Sidle. Leave a message and I'll return your call."_

I don't bother leaving a message.

If she didn't return the first seven, she isn't going to return the eighth.

Hanging up, I toss my phone onto my bed in frustration.

* * *

All day, my head is filled with thoughts of Sara Sidle.

Where she is, what she's doing. Why she isn't answering her phone.

And, if I'm completely honest, whether she's okay or not has also passed through my thoughts at least a couple times. It can't be easy hearing that your partner is dead. Particularly if you had a role in it.

But, most of all, Sara's words keep running through my head. All evening while having dinner with Lindsey, I can't help but drift off to Sidle's adamant refusal to admit to her whereabouts. Stating it will not help Gabe's family.

But, I still feel confident about my own feelings. That no matter where she was, no matter what horrid thing she was doing, they need to know for them to move on.

Is Sidle really that selfish to deny them that to save her own reputation?

And, that's where my hesitation comes in. Where I've lost multiple hours of brain power.

Sidle _isn't _that selfish. Hell, she isn't selfish at all.

Reading through her casefile and speaking with members of her team, it's a damn surprise they haven't named one of the labs after this girl. Just like Gil alluded to, Sidle, despite being nearly the youngest member of the team, has bailed them each out more ways that I can count.

And, not just for minor things or taking an extra case here and there. She has put her career, and in some cases her damn life, on the line to help her colleagues. She's taken the blame for things on cases that were clearly another CSI's mistake. She's taken on more than her fair share of doubles and triples when other team members were working caseloads nearly half of hers.

She hardly has a blemish on her own record, but for the very few things that appeared to me to maybe actually be her own fault, she has taken full ownership.

This isn't the type of person who runs from responsibility. From ownership of her mistakes.

But, she is one who covers for the mistakes of others.

Looking up from my meal in surprise, I swallow the takeout spaghetti in my mouth.

"Oh my God…"

Lindsey looks over, sending me a quizzical look before returning to the television I've for once allowed to play in the background, knowing I wasn't going to be the good company my daughter deserves tonight.

Sara isn't one to hide her mistakes, but she will damn well fall on her own sword to cover up for others.

"_The truth in this case isn't closure."_

Sara's words ring back to me.

Sara isn't covering for herself.

She's covering for Gabe.

Fuck.

* * *

"What was Gabe involved in?"

"What?" Sara looks up, startled.

Looking around, she probably wonders how the hell I got here, how I found her in this remote location.

"You heard me."

"No," Sara counters, still looking at me like I'm crazy as she tosses off her muddy shoes.

"You aren't not telling me where you were to cover for yourself," I spell it out for her. "You're covering for Gabe."

I cross my arms over my chest.

"That's why you don't think the answers will bring his family closure. You don't want them to see him as anything but positive, especially now that he's gone."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Sara shakes her head, turning to throw her shoes in the back of her Jeep.

"Like hell," I counter, turning her back around to face me.

With that action, all pleasantries are lost.

It's clear that I'm not messing around. And, based on her darkening expression and the force at which she pulled away from me, it's clear that she isn't either. She looks frustrated, angry, and a whole lot of other things I can't quite place.

To be honest, Sidle looks like hell.

I'm not sure what she did following the revelation of Gabe's death at her apartment the yesterday, but it looks like nothing good. The already dark circles under her eyes that I noted when I first got here are now nearly black. She's pale, tense, and looks like she hasn't eaten anything substantial in days.

"What was he involved in?" I ask again slowly, each word deliberately pronounced, not wavering on this.

Sara's eyes narrow, "Are you really that desperate?" she questions. "So hellbent on finding some sort of explanation for this that you're willing to go after someone who's _dead?_"

She advances on me slowly. It's only one step, but its underlying message is clear.

I don't allow myself to feel the slightest bit intimidated.

"I came here to get answers," I tell her tightly. "And that's what I'm going to do."

"Leave it alone," Sara warns, her normally husky voice even lower.

"No," I respond bluntly. "You don't get to make that call."

"Why are you doing this?" Sara asks me darkly. "Seeking answers just for the sake of answers? Not caring what those answers will do to the people involved?"

"We don't get to make that decision," I tell her sternly. "On cases we don't get to pick what truths we reveal and which we keep hidden. Even the truths we'd rather not share deserve to be spoken."

My mind flashes back to over a dozen cases where I wish I could have hidden the evidence damning a suspect that deserves to be free. To not be punished for what they did – their actions more than justified in my mind. Like the little boy who used his father's gun to shoot the babysitter who kept raping him. The man who assaulted the drunk driver who took away his wife and children.

The people who don't deserve to be behind bars.

"If Gabe was into something he shouldn't have been," I say quietly. "I need to know. Justice doesn't pick sides."

"Gabe was one of the best people I ever knew," Sara says, eyes meeting mine squarely. "If you want to spit on his memory, then you're going to have to do it without my help."

I look her over, curiosity creeping in.

"Do you really not care?"

I shake my head.

"Do you really not care that you are facing serious jail time if this case goes the way it's headed?" I ask. "We're talking a criminal case here, Sidle. People have gotten _life sentences_ for cases like this."

Sara remains quiet, her eyes studying the splashes of mud along the doors of her jeep.

"Whatever the truth is, not sharing it hurts your case. You do realize that, right?"

Sidle doesn't utter a word, but I know she's heard me. And, I know she already is aware of everything I'm saying. She's brilliant, to say the least, and she knows more than most people exactly what type of situation she's in right now.

But, she still refuses to say anything. Not even to try to save herself.

"I don't get you," I tell her honestly. "Not at all."

Sara swallows tightly, her eyes finally lifting to mine.

"Am I free to go?"

Looking her over one last time, I nod in resignation.

I can't help someone who isn't willing to help herself.

Palming my keys, I make my way back to my car.

I think I'm finally giving up on Sidle. Whatever answers I want to get on this case - about her, about Gabe - I'm going to have to get myself.

* * *

"You pulled his financials, his case history, his personal records…"

Sara's shadowy figure is somewhat difficult to make out in the darkness of my hotel hallway when I arrive back at my room a few hours later, but her voice is clear as day.

"How dare you."

"I told you I wasn't letting this go," I tell her without apology.

"You…" Sara lets out a tense breath. "You need to walk away from this."

"I thought I made myself clear…"

"You don't understand," she says, and something in her voice is different this time.

Instead of being angry, it's shifted almost to nervous.

"Sidle?"

"The answers you're looking for aren't going to help-"

"We've been through this."

"Let me finish," Sara states tightly.

"Fine," I cross my arms over my chest, closing the door to my hotel room slightly further to keep this conversation private. Or as private as it can be in the middle of a hallway. But, my daughter doesn't need to hear her mother arguing with a stranger this late at night.

"The answers aren't going to help," Sara says again. "But more than that, they're dangerous."

I search her shadowed expression for a moment before I let out a rueful laugh.

"Really?" I laugh. "That's the angle you're going with now?"

I shake my head with a roll of my eyes.

"Nice try, Sidle."

Turning to go about my evening, I'm startled when a tight grip pulls me back around.

"I'm serious." Sara shakes her head. "You need to walk away from this, Miss Willows. Now."

"Or else?" I sarcastically mutter.

"Listen to me," Sara bites out. "This isn't a game anymore. You've played your hand by requesting those records. Your inquiry is no longer hypothetical. People will notice."

"Yeah?" I question. "What people?"

"Just…people."

"Please," I laugh again. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"I can't," Sara counters. "Just…please. You have to trust me on this."

"I _don't_ trust you," I tell the young woman honestly. "You've pretty much lied to me since the first day I got here, refusing to help this investigation in any way."

I put myself in her personal space.

"So excuse me if I don't decide to start taking you at face value now that I've finally started to get somewhere. In fact, it seems the more progress I make, the more desperate you're becoming to stand in my way. Am I getting too close to those answers you keep trying to bury?"

"Please," Sara states, tension hanging on every word. "It isn't safe. You need to drop this _now_."

If I'm honest, Sidle's words have the hairs on the back of my neck raising slightly. Something about being cryptically warned about imminent danger by a shadowy figure in a back lit hallway will do that to a person.

But, as much as her words have me slightly on edge, they also excite me.

Sidle wouldn't be here if I wasn't onto something. If the answers I'm seeking weren't within my reach.

I always suspected there was something wrong with this shooting that resulted from supposed negligence by one of the brightest and most cautious CSIs I've ever witnessed.

Now, I know for sure.

* * *

Opening the package at my door the next morning, I peel off the legal evidence labeling, noting my Montana lab address.

"Vince, you are the best…" I whisper with a smile as I step inside and dump the contents out on my hotel bed. "Let's see what you've found."

The good, and perhaps in some ways bad, part about living in this era is that things like video surveillance know no geographical boundaries. Having given my tech guru in Montana the address of Sidle and Gabe's crime scene, he was able to search the area for all public safety cameras in the vicinity.

Looking through the package, I see a written report of his findings, along with a small flash drive. Wasting no time, I push it into my laptop's USB port.

Letting the file load, I soon have numerous back and white images filling my screen.

Filtering through, I note multiple images of Sidle's Tahoe passing various traffic cameras. Noting the time stamps and locations, my quick cursory glances seem to show me that Sidle's timeline was at least truthful. Time of arrival at her scene seems accurate, along with the time for when her car was spotted again after leaving the scene.

Though, I'm disappointed to see that there are only a few images of her car after leaving the scene.

One at a traffic camera very near the crime scene, and a couple others at intersections leading west from the scene.

Then, the images stop as she apparently enters locations without surveillance - giving me no definitive answer as to where she went. But, at least the directionality tells me she was headed away from the lab, giving me a place to start.

Flipping through the rest of the files, I see that one of them is a video file. Clicking on it, a note from Vince pops up.

_"Thought you might find this interesting. –V."_

Pressing play, I notice that this is the video version of one of the still images of Sidle in her car leaving the scene.

I see her stopped at the light, just like the image showed. But, as the video progresses, I note that she looks over to her passenger seat. Then, I see movement in the grainy images as she reaches for something. Squinting, I try to figure out what she's doing.

Then, suddenly, with a glint of light reflecting off the object in her hand, it becomes very clear.

Silently, I watch Sidle pull back on the slide of her service weapon. Effectively loading her gun and readying a bullet in the chamber.

Leaning over, she replaces it back on her passenger seat just as the light turns green and she exits the intersection.

She was headed away from the scene, away from the direction of the lab.

And, wherever the hell her destination was, she brought her service weapon. Loaded, cocked, and ready to be used.

What the hell…

Leaning back, I take a moment to digest this all. Digest the dark thoughts now starting to circulate around my brain.

Gabe was left alone at a scene. Gabe got shot. Sidle is seen leaving the scene, loading her weapon. Gabe's shooter is still unidentified. Assumed to be one of the suspects from the B and E returning to scene, but never proven. Also, gunshot wound was a through and through, bullet never recovered. And, more interestingly, neither was the shell casing.

What if…

I swallow against the outrageous thought.

What if Sidle can't tell me where she went because she didn't really 'leave' the scene at all.

Sure, drove a few blocks away. But what's to say she didn't circle back a different way. Didn't pretend to leave the scene because she's damn smart enough to do it for the sole and fucking clever purpose of creating her own alibi at the time of his death. Yes, she would get in trouble for leaving him alone, but she'd have a hell of a better chance at defending herself against that than her being at the scene at the time of the shooting - putting herself on the suspect list that every police officer and CSI in this city is analyzing with a microscope.

Taking out my cell, I call Gil.

As soon as he answers, I ignore pleasantries.

"I need Sidle's gun."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks again to all the reviewers, I love hearing from you guys. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 5

_"It is easy to be brave when far away from danger." _

-Aesop

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Damn it," I curse, tossing down my pen as I check the readings on the printout for the seventh time.

I'm half tempted to run them again.

But, I think I need to give this particular quest up. As much as I would like to have finally found my answer, this unfortunately clearly isn't it.

Sidle's weapon was not fired recently.

And, after also double and triple checking the video, I'm confident this is the weapon she was seen loading.

"Damn it," I mutter again, running a tired hand through my hair.

Just then, my phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, I cross my fingers that this whole day isn't a loss.

"Willows."

"Catherine! Oh how sweet it is to hear your voice…"

"Vince, now is so _not _the time."

"Alright," he agrees. "I recognize that tone. Quickly moving on…"

I hear the shuffling of some papers before he clears his throat.

"Those records you sent me on one Gabriel Williams. Made mostly for some very dull reading. Nothing in his background that raised any flags. Guy is practically a boy scout. Financials on the surface seem legit, not much large movement of unexplained sums. But, there was something interesting when I dug a little further."

More shuffling of more papers.

"Here it is. So, he had two savings accounts, likely to separate his assets for additional security. Not in itself all that unusual. But, from his second savings account with a slightly smaller sum, there's a monthly payout and deposit for exactly the same sum. Two hundred fifty dollars. Looking at his other financials, it's the only thing I cannot trace back to one of his bills or expenses."

He sighs.

"I can't find out where the money goes. He takes it out, then, just about a week after he removes it, he replaces the same amount likely to keep the balance the same and not draw attention to the missing money."

"How long?"

"That's the thing, this has been going on for almost twenty years – ever since he opened the account at age 18y."

I swallow, mind already working the angles.

"Thanks, Vince. I appreciate it."

"Anytime," he says. "Take care and hopefully see you back here soon."

We say our goodbyes and I place my cell back in my pocket.

Routine payouts in financials are never a good thing, especially when you can't trace the receiving end. Who or what was Gabe paying for monthly? Two hundred and fifty dollars isn't a huge amount, but over the course of the nearly twenty years he's been paying it, it would definitely add up.

But, while I'm eager to have finally found something to go off of, the biggest problem in this scenario is that this has been going on long before Gabe was even a CSI. There's no way this payout was related to anything on the job, like evidence tampering, data altering, etc.

Sighing, I rub my temples.

"Catherine."

The voice at the door startles me – having been mostly the only person at the lab the last couple hours. Or so I thought.

"Gil?"

"Can I see you in my office?"

Raising a brow, I nod, slowly following him out.

* * *

"She did what?" I ask, eyes wide.

"She turned herself in," Gil states again, slower this time. "Apparently tried to confess to negligent homicide and get the case pushed through court immediately."

"And?"

"And I convinced them to wait for the outcome of your investigation," Gil tells me.

"And?"

"And since your deadline is practically only a few days away, they agreed."

I let out a relieved sigh, knowing how close Sidle came to achieving her goal of getting this case closed before I can get those answers I so passionately seek.

And, this just confirms to me how desperate Sidle is to keep me from my answers. To turn herself in just to get the case closed and my questioning shut down…

"I'm close to something," I promise Gil. "I just need those extra days."

"Well," he says tightly. "Now you have them. I suggest you make the most of it."

* * *

"Nice try."

Sara spins, likely pissed that I managed to sneak up on her again. Not to mention the fact that her ruse this morning failed.

"Willows," she mutters darkly in greeting, turning to pull her sweaty t-shirt over her head and toss it with her shoes back in her Jeep "I'm going to have to pick a new running spot. Apparently this desert trail half way to Colorado still isn't remote enough."

"Are you really that desperate that you would turn yourself in?"

Sara doesn't answer, simply adjusting her tank top and running shorts. She likely figures the question is rhetorical anyway.

"You do realize that if you're convicted, you go away to jail for a _very _long time. Why the hell would you want to rush that? Are you that desperate to get me to stop asking questions and learning the answers?"

Sara pauses, but quickly resumes her actions.

"Sidle," I call out, my tone gentler. "Please look at me."

Sara's body remains still before eventually bringing her eyes to mine.

"I'm trying to help," I state honestly. "I don't want to see one of Vegas' best CSIs get locked away until she's well into retirement age. Your career, your life, everything will be over once this case goes to court."

While I haven't exactly figured out all the angles here, I've gone back to my original conclusion. The one that with the clearing of Sidle's gun seems to be the only thing confirmed. Sidle is protecting Gabe.

Sara starts to turn, her body flinching when I reach out to take the front of her tank top in my hand.

"Sidle," I hold her firmly in place until she looks at me. "Don't go down for something you're not fully responsible for. Gabe is dead. You shouldn't waste the rest of your life rotting in some jail cell because of some attempt at loyalty."

Sara's body is tense under my grip, her eyes angry and dark.

"Just this morning you thought I killed him." Her words have my heart stuttering in my chest, surprised at her knowledge of my requesting her service weapon. "You thought I _killed _him, Miss Willows. So don't come here now acting like you care about me, not when less than 24 hours ago you thought I was a murderer."

Sara pushes back from my grip.

"I was wrong, and I'm sorry. But now I know for sure you're protecting him," I respond, leaving no room for pointless arguing. At least we've seem to agree that refuting this particular point is now futile. It's slow progress, but it's at least progress. One fact in this case that we can both stop arguing about and move forward from. "Why do you feel like you always need to protect the world?"

"I wasn't aware Gabe was the world."

"You know what I mean," I tell her. "I've read your file. I know the actions you've taken to bail out those around you. Even at your own expense."

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Sara mutters.

"Of course not," I shake my head at her stubbornness. "Sidle, stop covering for everyone else and for once look out for yourself. Or, at the very least, let me look out for you. This isn't a game. If you're convicted, your life is over."

Sara's jaw is tight.

"I'm not the one who needs to be protected," she says.

Looking around, she makes sure we have no nosy bystanders. Though these trails are remote, there are a few other cars in the lot.

"Like I said before, you need to walk away from this before…"

"Before what?"

"Before you get hurt."

I straighten up at her direct wording. She'd alluded to the same message the other night in my hotel hallway, but it's clear that she's done with veiled threats.

She, like myself, has decided to be a whole lot more direct as time keeps quickly ticking by.

"Hurt by whom?"

Sara scoffs darkly, "You don't learn, do you? Even when I'm telling you that what you're doing is dangerous, you just keep pushing."

"It's my job."

"Bullshit," Sara breathes out, finally losing her stoicism to let me see the anger beneath. "You're just pissed that there's something you can't figure out."

Sara shakes her head.

"I hope your curiosity is something you're willing to lose your life over," she threatens tightly. "Because that's the type of situation you're in, lest I haven't made myself clear on the matter previously."

"If I believed you," I respond. "Then perhaps I'd give these threats of yours some more thought. But right now I see a desperate young CSI who is willing to do and say desperate things to get me to walk away. Today's actions of yours, trying to get yourself fucking arrested, only furthering my beliefs."

I shrug tightly.

"Why the hell would I walk away now that I'm finally getting somewhere?"

"Because you care about your daughter."

That stops me in my tracks, too shocked to say anything.

"That beautiful little girl I saw at your hotel the other night," Sara says tightly. "She's your daughter, yes?"

I'm still too caught off guard to form words, only nodding slowly.

"If you want her to be an orphan, then keep going," Sara says tightly. "Keep asking your questions and publicly requesting background checks."

She moves closer, eyes boring into my own.

"But if you care at all about your little girl," Sara's voice is stern. "Then you walk away right now before it's too late. Your little girl shouldn't have to pay the price for her mother being too damn stubborn to listen to reason."

The silence stretches on, one full minute after another.

Then, it's finally broken with a harsh meeting of skin against skin.

"Don't you dare bring my daughter into this, threatening her," I bite out, feeling the sting against my hand as the outline of my fingers start to appear in deep red against Sara's cheek.

"Am I clear?"

Sara works her jaw tightly, turning back to face me.

"I'm not the one threatening your daughter, Miss Willows," Sara counters. "You are."

Slapping her again, this time Sidle takes a step back to keep herself upright.

Then, pulling herself to her full height, her fingers wipe at her mouth to remove the small trickle of crimson that escapes from a cut in the corner of her bottom lip likely caused by my ring.

"Every minute you stay here, pushing further into this investigation," she bites out tightly. "You put yourself, and her, in more and more danger."

"You can keep hitting me all you want," she says quietly. "You can call me a liar all you want."

Spitting the blood from the inside of her mouth into the desert sand, Sara holds her ground.

"But it doesn't change the truth of what I'm saying. Or the truth of what you're doing."

* * *

"You want me to what?"

"Just watch her for a few days, please?"

"Catherine…"

"Please," I state desperately.

While I still think Sara Sidle is one of the most manipulative and secretive liars I have ever met, I'm not willing to take any chances that she's right.

Not for Lindsey.

If I'm in danger, that's one thing, but I won't endanger my innocent, beautiful little girl.

The girl that gives my life meaning.

My friend looks up, eyes still shocked and in disbelief that this is really happening.

Before this trip to Vegas, we hadn't spoken in nearly two years.

Not out of spite or something bad, but life simply heading in different directions.

We used to be best friends while I was in school in Vegas, then time, distance, and life took us away. I took a job back home in Montana, and she left to get her doctorate in Boston. For a while we were able to keep up via emails or texts, but even those slowed before they all together stopped.

Still, Kelly is someone who I would trust my life with. And, therefore the only person I trust with my daughter's.

"Kel, please," I state. "I have no other options here. I'm so sorry."

Kelly studies me, letting out a long breath.

Lindsey had been hanging out with her when I've left the hotel these past couple days, but to ask Kelly to keep Lindsey here overnight for multiple days…

"What about you?" she asks. "If you're asking me to take Linds, I assume there's some threat from a case?"

Kelly and I have been friends long enough that she remembers past cases when we were both still living in Vegas where I've sent Lindsey to stay with her for a while until things blew over or the suspect was caught.

While the times have been relatively few, this unfortunately isn't the first of these particular house calls.

"I'll be okay," I promise her. "I honestly think this is all a ridiculous attempt at getting me off a case, to be honest. But, I want to be safe."

"Is this the case from the news?" Kelly asks. "The one where that CSI got killed?"

I look up.

"Sorry," she shrugs, "they mentioned they were bringing in an independent outside CSI for the investigation…now you show up here…so I figured…"

I nod, smiling slightly as I remember just how brilliant Kelly is. Not that her brilliance was ever in question, her now being one of the best engineers in her field, but still.

"You aren't going to confirm or deny, right?" Kelly says with a smile.

"I don't think I need to," I smile back.

Seeing Lindsey already making herself at home on Kelly's couch, rifling through my friend's DVD selection, I reach out and hug Kelly tightly.

"I really owe you."

Kelly smiles as she pulls away.

"You really do."

* * *

"She's gone."

Sara doesn't look up, simply taking her coffee from the counter and moving towards the back of the bookstore.

"My daughter," I clarify tersely. "She's gone, off to spend the rest of her break with someone other than her mother. Who misses her very much and was more than looking forward to this time together, mind you."

When Sara folds her long frame into the last bench in the back of the store, I finally lose my restraint and press my car keys loudly into the wooden railing.

"Are you listening?"

"Yes."

Sara doesn't look up, her eyes roaming over something on her phone, finger sliding across the screen while her brows furrow slightly.

"And you have nothing to say?"

Finally, Sara looks up. Her eyes hold an almost curious expression.

"Do you want me to congratulate you for getting your daughter to safety, Miss Willows?" she questions. "Perhaps they sell banners for that? Or can write something poetic about it for you on a cake?"

I take in her quirked brow, the ever darkening shadows under her eyes.

The deep crimson gash in her bottom lip that she got just yesterday by being just as crass as she is now.

"Do you purposefully try to rile people?" I question honestly. "Apparently didn't learn your lesson from the last time you tried that with me?"

Sara smiles slightly, tongue absently running over her cut lip before taking a sip of her coffee.

"What are you going to do?" she questions after a few swallows. "Hit me in the middle of a public store?"

"Don't tempt me," I warn her seriously.

I don't know what it is about Sidle. Something about her just annoys the shit out of me. Her insolence, her biting wit, her emotionless mask that she hides it all underneath.

Typing a few things into her phone, Sara pushes herself to a stand.

As she moves past, she stops to quirk her head slightly over her shoulder.

"To answer your original question," she says evenly. "No, I'm not happy."

Looking at me over her back, she shakes her head.

"You're still here."

Tossing the coffee she barely touched in the trash, she gives me one last look.

"The warning wasn't just for your daughter's sake, Miss Willows," she says. "You aren't safe here either."

Zipping up her jacket, she places her sunglasses over her eyes before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

My less than pleasant thoughts.

* * *

Heading back to my hotel room, I toss my keycard down on the bed in frustration.

Looking over at my daughter's empty bed, some of her clothes still scattered around the room, I swallow tightly. I miss my little girl. I miss the fun activities we were supposed to have been doing during our time here.

"Fuck you, Sidle."

Taking a deep breath, I register the growling in my stomach. When was the last time I ate? Probably this morning before I left on my wild goose chase for the day, getting spun in more and more circles on this damn case that is going pretty much nowhere.

Picking up the room service menu, I quickly glance over the sparse selections. Apparently this place specializes in pasta. And pasta. And more pasta. Rolling my eyes, I pick something absently and grab the phone.

Dialing zero, I hear the phone start ringing. But, I also hear something else.

Something I shouldn't be hearing, and recognize all too well.

"Front desk," the bored sounding hotel employee answers. "Hello?"

"Oh, yes," I snap out of my thoughts, trying to act like everything is fine. "Sorry, long day."

"What can I help you with?" the impatient voice questions.

"I'd like to order some room service. The pesto with some bread on the side."

"Twenty five minutes."

The person hangs up, and I do as well.

As soon as the phone hits the cradle, I immediately unplug it from its jack. Then, I flip it over.

Nothing obvious on the outside, but I know it's there. I'd recognize those clicks anywhere. I don't say anything aloud, no matter how much I want to curse, knowing there could be other things here in this room.

Prying off the back of the phone with my finger, I see a small black device clipped into the mess of wires. Fuck. Replacing the back of the phone together, I look closely around my room.

It only takes me a few moments of looking, really looking, to confirm someone has been here.

Someone who definitely wasn't me or the cleaning crew.

"Shit," I whisper quietly.

Glancing down, I pull my cell from my pocket. Landlines like the hotel phone are easy to bug, but unfortunately, cell phones are almost easier. All you need is the phone number, and some good hacking skills.

My morning conversation with Vince…

"Damn it," I mutter again.

I'm pissed as hell.

But, though I hate to admit it as I glance around my dimly lit room, I'm also shaken.

And pretty damn scared.

What the hell have I gotten myself involved in?

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks again to those that take the time to read and review.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 6

_"Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied." _

_-Pearl S. Buck_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"This isn't a game anymore!"

"I never thought it was…"

Sidle's almost bored tone pisses me off nearly to my breaking point. I'm literally about to crawl out of my skin here, and she looks like she's focused on something a million miles away.

"They hacked my phones, Sidle! They've been in my fucking hotel room!"

This, finally, gets her attention.

She doesn't say anything, but I can see the immediate change to her focus. Thoughts firing through her head, her motions of untying her shoes frozen.

"You were right, okay?" I force out while she still tries to adjust to the startling news I just dropped on her. "I believe you now, alright? This damn case has people fucking following me. And now I want to know why! I deserve to know who the hell is watching me!"

Sara swallows, and for the first time she looks something other than stoic and detached.

"That won't help," she tells me warningly, standing up to her full height. "That will make this worse. Unimaginably worse."

She shakes her head, fingers anxiously flexing and clenching as she continues to work through the rapid thoughts in her head. Looking around to confirm we're alone in this latest desert location of hers, she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head. For once voluntarily letting me see her eyes.

"They're trying to figure out how much you know." Sara's tone is dark, stern. "You cannot, under any circumstances, say anything related to this case, or indicate in any way that you've made any sort of progress."

"No issues with that," I scoff darkly, looking at her like she's crazy. She knows perfectly well just how far I'm buried in the dark on this case. "I _haven't _made any progress. Not any real progress, anyway."

Then, hearing my own words aloud, I slowly search Sara's concerned gaze. The words repeat themselves through my head. My words. Her words.

"Which was your intention all along," I breathe out. "You knew from the beginning what would happen to me if I _did _find any of the answers to the questions I've been asking. You knew they were watching and that they'd find out the second I learned something of value. And then they would…"

I trail off, not able to finish and speak the words aloud.

Searching my young companion's eyes, it's like I'm starting to see beneath her façade, catching the briefest and slightest of glimpses through to the real Sara Sidle.

"Jesus, you haven't just been protecting Gabe this whole time, not really. You've been protecting _me_."

Sara watches me, eyes fixed on mine as she tries to get some sort of read on me.

Then, for the first time since I've met her, she genuinely smiles. It's slight, and barely there, but it's amazing the change it makes to her features.

"You've made it very, very difficult," she confesses with a quirked brow along with the slight pull to her mouth. "But I've tried as best I can."

"So you aren't normally this much of an ass?" I question, suspecting now that Sidle likely acted and behaved how she felt she needed to get me off this case and back to Montana as quickly as possible.

Be as obstructive and defensive as she could, not give me the slightest lead or piece of evidence in this case. But, more importantly, don't make herself likable or relatable in any way, so that I gladly call her a cold bitch and and happily send her off to spend the rest of her years in jail the first opportunity I get.

She knew that to let me in, to give me the motivation or opportunity to get any answers in this case would be like letting me tie my own noose around my neck.

Sara laughs slightly, bringing me back to my question lingering between us. "I'm usually an ass," she counters. "Just not pointlessly an ass."

"Noted."

"Look," Sidle grows serious, her expression changing back to the somber, dark expression I'm used to. "You need to file your report and get out of here. You've seen firsthand now that this isn't a joke, that I'm not lying to you about you being at risk."

I watch her, her words running through my head, all the thoughts that come with it. Yes, I should leave. That part is obvious. But, as much as this recent turn of events has made this case all the more dangerous, it's also made it all the more important.

If there are people going to these lengths to protect what is going on here, then it begs the question of just how deep and serious the things are that they're trying to hide.

You don't bug people's phones, search their hotel rooms, if you aren't hiding something big.

And, Sidle here seems content to just send her martyring self to jail while whoever the hell is doing this stays untouched. Untouched and lurking around a city that my best friend happens to be in the middle of.

Unless…

God, I've been so stupid.

"You have a plan. This whole time, you've had a plan."

Sidle looks up at me, or more accurately down at me with her added height.

"You need to stop right there and leave this alone," she warns.

"While you do what?" I question. "I see this two ways. Either you plan to get yourself thrown in jail and let whoever these people are do their thing in peace, or you're planning something on your own to try to stop them."

Stepping forward slightly, I place myself in her personal space.

"I don't know you, Sidle, but from what I've learned about you through your file and your history," I tell her, "I know that you're reckless."

Her jaw clenches, her body tensing under the weight of my words as her eyes shift away to the mountains.

"You're reckless, you're stubborn, and you push things and people with no regard to yourself or the consequences." I turn her jaw back to mine with my fingers, not letting her look away. "You aren't finished working this case either. You have a plan and it doesn't end with you in jail and them free to continue doing whatever the hell this is all about. You wouldn't let that happen."

Sara's body is tense, her jaw tight under my fingers.

"What are you planning, Sidle?" I ask her quietly. "Because trying to do this alone, you're going to get yourself killed."

Sidle watches me before letting out another ghost of a smile.

"Stop," she says softly. "Or people might think you care about me."

Shaking my head, I can't help the small smile that comes to my own face.

"You're right," I tell her, "You _are _an ass."

Sara laughs lightly before she grows serious.

Gently but firmly, she pulls herself out of my grip, putting distance between us.

"I'm being dead serious here, Miss Willows. I need to know you're leaving this alone. They've already gotten too close to you. I can't let someone else lose their life because of me," she confesses, voice burdened with emotions she struggles to hide from me. "I can't have more blood on my hands."

She meets her gaze with mine, eyes filled with so many things that are so much harder to watch than her previous empty stare. This Sara Sidle, the one who looks like she's nearly drowning with guilt over Gabe's death, the one struggling to keep me safe no matter the cost, is much harder to witness.

Frustrating as she was when she was acting like a cold bitch to get me to walk away from this case, that version of Sidle was almost easier to take than this one. This one that's still working desperately hard to hide her hurt, her emotions from me. The one who's finally revealing just a glimpse of her true self despite her best efforts.

"Please."

I shake my head quietly, wanting to give her what she wants but knowing I can't.

"I won't let you get yourself killed on some solo vigilante mission, Sidle. I can't have _your _blood on _my _hands if I just leave you here."

"I'm not your responsibility," she counters tightly. "And I have everything under control."

I raise a brow.

"Really?" I question. "Those people with connections as deep as they clearly have, you're equipped to take them on? By yourself?"

Sara doesn't answer directly.

"I've told you everything I can," she says instead. "Walk away from this."

* * *

"So that's it?"

"That's it," I confirm.

Gil takes in the file in front of him.

"Well this isn't good at all."

I snort lightly at his ability to understate almost anything.

"CSIs are excellent at solving cases," I tell him honestly. "Which means they're also great at obstructing them, should they so desire."

I let out a low sigh. "And Sidle, that's definitely what she desires."

"But why?" Gil breathes out, rubbing his hands in thought, no longer paying attention to the papers in front of him.

Not like they had anything useful written on them, anyway. Just a whole lot of "CSI Sidle left the scene…CSI Williams died as a result." Things that were obvious before I came here.

I'm a damn good CSI, and it's pissing me off to no extent that I made absolutely no progress on this investigation thanks to Sidle's purposeful actions. And perhaps more infuriating is the fact that I find myself in this position because of a CSI nearly 10 years my junior. Someone who's been doing this a hell of a lot shorter than me.

I shouldn't be successfully stumped by the actions of someone who practically just had the ink dry on her forensics degree.

But, part of me is glad to not have to lie to my friend. On my way over here, I'd decided that two people can play this game. Sidle wants me to act like I've discovered nothing on this case. That part is easy. My report is pretty legit in that it indicates she's guilty of leaving the scene and that's about it.

She's been successful enough in her mission to keep me in the dark for that to be the extent of the truths that I know.

But, she also wants me to walk away from this. And, that's the part where we're going to have to agree to disagree.

Now is time to start doing things my way. I file this crappy report, people see I know nothing. I'm off their radar, Sidle thinks I've given up.

Win, win.

But, I fully intend to keep working this case under the table on my own. I'm a CSI, and it's my duty to damn well get those answers that I was brought here to get, to get justice for this case. Especially a case as seemingly important as this one.

The only difference is now I know I need to be a hell of a lot smarter, and cautious, about it.

"She had every opportunity to help herself," I state to Gil, hating to see himself blaming his own actions for Sidle's current position. I still don't know who to be fully blaming, but I know for sure it's not him.

Seeing his drawn features, I reach across his old and chipping desk to take his hand in mine.

Giving it a squeeze, I breathe out.

"For whatever reason, your CSI doesn't want to be saved by us, Gil. You can't take that as a personal failure. She made her decision. If she wants to go down, that's her call. But, please, don't let her take you down with her."

Gil lets my words sink in, not commenting.

Then, after a moment or two, he finally squeezes my hand back in return.

* * *

"I filed my report."

Sidle doesn't answer, sitting with her back to me.

Hesitantly looking around, I note the lowering sun, the darkness slowly creeping over the park.

The lack of other cars around.

Sidle sure as hell likes to pick some creepy places to run. But, at least these remote locations take us away from any listening ears and prying eyes. The ones I now feel all but crawling over me.

Which, I suspect is part of her reasoning for coming out here.

"You hear me?" I ask. "I did what you said and gave them a crappy report that lets them know just how little I understand about this case. Which is not a lie. So, I guess that's it then."

There's no comment, just the sound of the desert around us.

"Sidle? Are you even listening?"

"Yes," she answers quietly. "I heard you. Thanks for letting me know. Have a safe trip back to Montana."

I furrow my brows, my senses growing even more on edge.

Something here isn't right.

Looking around me, I affirm that we are alone, no strangers lurking in the trees. Just me and her, still sitting silently in her Jeep, refusing to face me.

I still don't know Sidle hardly at all, but I've interacted with her enough to recognize that her tone is off, even if the words she's saying seem within her character.

"Sidle?"

Not getting any response at all this time, I reach into her car, practically pulling her out of her driver's seat.

The moment I do, watching her nearly loose her balance and stagger to one knee, I regret my decision.

"Shit, sorry…"

My words trail off as my eyes take in the sight before me. It's dim lighting with the sun nearly disappearing behind the mountains, but I've been a CSI long enough to recognize blood in any type of lighting.

"Oh my God, Sara…"

Her name sounds strange on my lips, and I realize it's probably the first time I haven't called her 'Sidle' to her face.

"What the hell happened?" I question, eyes wide.

Reaching out, she pulls away from my touch, grabbing onto her Jeep's door to pull herself back up to her feet.

"I'm fine."

I shake my head darkly. "Don't you dare. You are _not _fine."

Watching the blood slowly trickling from a gash near her temple, I note the deep crimson marring most of her light t-shirt.

"God," I breathe out. "You're not fine at all. Jesus, what did you do, Sidle?!"

Reaching forward again, I watch Sara flinch away from me, pressing herself back as far as she can against the frame of her car.

"Stop, relax," I call to her. "I just need to see what's going on so we can stop this bleeding."

"I'm okay," she tightens her jaw. "You shouldn't be here."

"Stop worrying about me, damn it," I cut her off angrily. "I'm not leaving this desert. Not with you like this."

"Please…"

"Sara," I shake my head darkly. "I'm not going anywhere. So stop pushing me away for once and just let me fucking help you. Stop trying to do everything alone."

I watch her defensive posture that only grows more rigid.

"Unless of course _this_ is your grand plan. To bleed to death in the desert."

She swallows tightly.

"Didn't think so. So if you don't want that to become a reality, you need to let me help you. You're losing too much blood."

Hands shaking, she runs them through her hair, leaving more deep crimson in their wake.

Taking shallow breaths, Sidle keeps debating her options.

Like letting me help her would be breaching some sort of internal default setting. Though, I know enough about Sidle now to know that's probably true. She's just about as stubborn and independent as they come.

Making the decision for her, I step forward, trapping her between myself and her car. Placing my arm around her waist, she tries to pull away.

Grunting in pain at the movements, her features grow significantly paler as she struggles against me.

"Hey, hey, stop," I tell her, not letting my grip go. "Relax, Sara. I'm not letting go and you're only going to hurt yourself more."

When her struggles renew, I press myself firmly against her, effectively trapping her body flush between mine and her car.

My hips press into hers, my free arm reaching over to keep her own pinned against her car window.

Feeling her shallow breathing against me, I wait her out.

Her anger, her discomfort, all of it evident in the trembling body beneath mine.

"Calm down," I whisper, my mouth mere inches from her blood stained neck. "I'm not here to hurt you, Sara. I promise."

I know Sidle probably trusts me about as much as I trust her, which is currently limited at best. And, the last thing anyone wants when they're injured and vulnerable is to be cornered by someone who's intentions they aren't certain of.

"Please let me help you," I say gently, feeling her heart hammering in her chest where it's pressed against my shoulder. "You're going to slip into shock soon if we don't slow this bleeding."

Though, judging by how cold her skin is under my hands, I wonder if she isn't already there.

Pulling back slightly, I let her see my eyes.

"Honey, look at me."

Her breathing rapid, eyes dark, her gaze finally lifts to mine.

"We don't have a lot of time," I tell her honestly. "You need to make a decision as to whether you're going to let me help you, or if you're going to let yourself bleed out here in the desert."

Swallowing tightly, Sidle closes her eyes, no doubt loathing the idea of both options.

Then, just as I feel her weight starting to shift and her legs starting to weaken, she slowly looks at me.

Nodding, she doesn't say anything, that action alone giving me my permission.

* * *

"Okay," I state, not wasting any time. "I need to lay you down in front of your Jeep so I can see where this blood is coming from."

Reaching in her open door, I turn on her SUV's head lights.

Then, holding her tightly with both arms, I support most of her weight as we slowly make our way to the front of her vehicle. Gently lowering her down, curse the fact that I have nothing with me to place between her body and the dirt.

Stiffening as her back makes contact with the ground, Sara's hands involuntarily move to her torso.

In the harsh light from her Jeep's headlights, I can see the most extensive bloodstains are located beneath her fingers.

That's the place to start.

"Let go," I direct her gently but firmly, taking her thin wrists in my hands and moving her arms to her side.

Slowly lifting her shirt, I push her hands gently away again as she instinctively tries to stop me.

"Relax," I tell her softly. "You're okay."

Lifting her shirt the rest of the way, I swallow tightly at the sight.

There's a deep gash along her right ribs, and another lower near her hip.

It doesn't take a CSI to know exactly what I'm looking at. Someone fucking stabbed her. And, noting the placement of the injuries, my blood runs cold. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. They didn't want Sidle dead, at least not immediately. They carefully avoided locations with vital organs underneath. Wanting to cause Sara as much pain as possible, knowing it would take longer for her body to slowly bleed out.

"Shit," I mutter, reaching up and taking off my own over shirt without a second thought.

Pressing it into Sara's side, the younger woman growls beneath me, her hands coming up to grab my arms.

"I know, I know," I tell her soothingly. "I'm sorry, I know it hurts."

Pressing firmly, I easily work through Sara's weakened struggles.

Holding the material firmly against the deepest gash, the one along her ribs, my eyes take in the rest of her exposed skin. It's hard to make out much of anything with all the blood, deep red glistening against the blinding white light from her car, but I can also see some deepening bruises along her upper ribs that travel towards her back.

"What the hell did they do to you? And why?" I question under my breath, the sight before me making my stomach turn.

Looking up, I note Sara's expression.

"No, no, no," I call to her. "You need to stay with me, Sara. Open those eyes of yours."

Eyes struggling open, Sara's gaze is moving in and out of focus as she swallows tightly.

"Good girl," I tell her. "Keep focusing on my voice. Stay with me, alright?"

Reaching down with one hand, I pull my phone from my pocket.

"Damn it," I curse, noting the message indicating I have no service. "Why the hell do you go running in the middle of fucking nowhere?" I mutter mostly to myself.

Returning both hands to Sara's side, I feel her body jerk.

"So I don't have to… deal with…seeing…other people…like you…," she tells me hoarsely before I can apologize for the added pain.

Looking down, I see the slight smirk on her lips.

"Again," I tell her with a light laugh. "You're an ass."

"So I've been told," she mutters weakly.

I smile despite my gut falling tightly as I note her increasing trembling and the racing of her pulse as her heart tries to compensate for the blood loss.

"Damn it," I curse, knowing we're closely reaching the critical point at which this could go one of two ways.

And, I refuse to let it go the way it's quickly headed.

Looking down, I remove one hand from Sara's side as I quickly unbuckle my belt and pull it from my jeans.

"Willows…" Sara grinds out, expression darkening as her gaze isn't quite fully there.

Realizing how this could look and not knowing why the hell Sidle's mind would immediately go to such a place, I quickly but gently place my hand along the side of her cheek.

"Trust me," I tell her firmly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Seeing her wary eyes continue to watch me even as her breathing becomes more labored, I return my own gaze to her torso.

Keeping my shirt pressed into her wound, I use my other to get the belt pushed under her back and out the other side.

Quickly working the loose end through the buckle, I use both hands to grip it.

"I'm sorry," I warn her, then quickly pull as tight as I can.

The strangled scream that forces itself out of Sara's throat will no doubt haunt me for a long time.

Securing it tightly, I silently thank the fact that Sidle is as damn skinny as she is, allowing my belt to successfully act as a tourniquet keeping constant pressure on her wound.

Looking her over, I note the slow bleeding coming from her other stab wound, not to mention the steady trickle of blood moving down her face and hair from whatever the hell is going on with her head wound.

Knowing we have limited time and options, I make the best decision I can right now, my mind working through my choices and constantly coming to one conclusion.

"I've stopped the bleeding from the deepest wound as best I can," I inform her of my plan. "That should buy us enough time to get you to the hospital."

Sara looks less than pleased, but she also looks like she's quickly losing her battle with consciousness.

"I'm going to pick you up and take your Jeep," I tell her, knowing her back seat will be a lot easier to get her into than my tiny rental car.

Not giving her a chance to protest, I gather her into my arms, trying as best I can to keep her still.

Securing her into the back seat, I quickly adjust her driver seat to be suitable for a shorter driver.

"You hang on back there," I tell her sternly. "Don't you dare fucking die on me. Not now, after all the hell you've put me through on this fucking case."

I shake my head.

"You're going to live to make it up to me, Sidle. Damn it, you promise me you're not going to die on me after all this...promise me that this isn't how this all ends."

Sara has fallen quiet, and I'm sure she's lost consciousness.

But, just as I throw her Jeep in gear and send her SUV speeding through the desert, tires kicking up sand as we reach speeds I'm pretty sure I've never reached before, I hear her weak voice from the back seat.

"I promise."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks for reading. And, particular thanks to the reviewers, the story and updates are really because of you guys. And, sb, you will see how - the answer is in a chapter or two from now if I remember correctly where it's placed.**

* * *

CHAPTER 7

_"The greatest difficulties lie where we are not looking for them." _

_-Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

There are moments in life when you need to make decisions that you know in some way will change you. As a person. Make you question who you are when times are desperate, when things really matter. When people are counting on you the most.

It's what you do in _those _moments that tell you the most about yourself.

Picking up my cell, I dial the number for the fourth time. This time, I somehow muster the courage to press send.

Hearing the ringing, I close my eyes, as if the darkness will make this easier.

"Grissom."

"Gil…"

That's it, that's as far as I get, not knowing how the hell I'm supposed to start this conversation despite playing it through my head half a dozen times in the last five minutes.

"Catherine? Where have you been?"

"Yeah, Gil, look…" I pinch my temples, trying to keep my voice light and calm. "I'm just checking in since I know Sidle's preliminary court appearance is in the morning."

There's silence, just silence as Gil no doubt hears straight through the tone of my voice.

"I'm going to still be out of touch for a bit, I have some last angles I want to run. And I'm going to be keeping an eye on Sidle in these last hours to be sure there's no surprises before the trial."

Another pause, this time broken by his question.

"Is everything alright, Catherine?"

"Of course," I tell him. "Just didn't want you to worry if I'm out of touch. I'll see you in the morning at the courthouse."

With that I hang up, hanging my head, the silence of this empty room pressing in on me from every side.

I just lied to one of my closest friends. About one of his closest friends.

But, seeing Sidle barely clinging to life there in the desert, the severity of this case is finally sinking in with me. Sidle is involved in something real, something deep, something dangerous. Gil needs to be a hell of a lot smarter than me and keep his distance. But, I know my friend, and given the chance he would be here in a heartbeat, despite the danger to himself.

I can't let that happen. Not because of me.

But, God, if she dies, and I just denied him his last chance of seeing her…

Swallowing tightly, I can't keep all the emotions, all the fears and terrors of this past hour from boiling back up inside.

If Sara dies, he will never forgive me.

I will never forgive myself.

* * *

Glancing at the board, I look down again at the card in my hands. Her number isn't there.

Her fucking number isn't there.

"Nurse."

I pound my palm on the reception desk when there's no answer, just people bustling about and phones ringing without being answered.

"Nurse!"

One woman behind the desk finally looks up, quirking a brow as she assesses me with her piercing blue eyes that are only made more vivid by the dark blue of her scrubs.

"Yes?" she questions tightly. "And it's 'doctor'" she adds. "I like when people yell at me to at least give me my proper title."

"I'm sorry," I have enough presence to be slightly embarrassed, cheeks burning lightly. "I'm just worried about my sister…her number disappeared from your status board…"

'Doctor' Blue Eyes nods, glancing absently at the card in my hands and confirming that the number is no longer on the large LCD monitor above the desk.

"Alright," she says. "That usually means she's out of surgery. So someone should be coming out soon to update you as to her new location, most likely in ICU."

"Most likely?"

The doctor gets an unreadable look in her eyes, nodding while turning away.

"Most likely?!" I ask again, grabbing her arm.

Perhaps seeing the genuine fear in my eyes, she doesn't yell at me for my latest rude move.

"She lost a lot of blood," she says quietly, apparently knowing exactly who this number belongs to. "I was one of the doctors who triaged your sister before handing her over to the surgeons."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying she's most likely in ICU."

"But if she isn't…"

The doctor gently pulls her arm from my grip, knowing we both know damn well where Sara is if she isn't in ICU.

She's in the one place in a hospital that never gets put onto any of the signs.

The morgue.

* * *

When nearly half an hour passes without an update, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I think I'm literally going to explode if another minute ticks by without news of whether Sara is even alive or dead.

Glancing up at the signs around me, I figure ICU is most likely close to the surgical department for convenience purposes. And, walking a little way down the hall, I sure enough soon come to a sign that states adult ICU and pediatric ICU, pointing in opposite directions.

Following the signs for the adult ICU, I try to unearth skills within me that I had once mastered as a child.

Raising my head with confidence, I pretend like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be and walk with purpose straight past the reception desk and through one of the side doors.

Entering the hallway, my eyes widen slightly as I see room after room along a long hallways, nurses and doctors bustling between them.

Not losing my confident expression, I walk rather quickly down the hall, glancing into every room that I can see. Pretending to check my phone, I double back as if I just received an important call and need to step out. Hoping to not look like someone lost and out of place here, which is exactly what I am.

Looking in the rooms along the opposite side of the hall, I see someone who looks damn close to Sidle just as I'm about to arrive back at the reception desk.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly sidestep into the room, closing the door behind me.

Turning, I'm both relieved and nervous when I see the occupant looking at me with a less than friendly expression.

* * *

"Miss Willows?" Sara questions tightly, clearing her throat, words sounding scratchy and hoarse.

She's pushed herself up from the edge of her bed, drawing herself to a somewhat shaky stand.

"Thank God," I let out a rushed breath. "I thought…"

Sara raises a brow, expression a mixture of confused, concerned, and slightly amused that only she can master so perfectly.

"You thought what, Miss Willows?"

"Damn it," I breathe out, trying to stop my thundering heart and come down from the panicked adrenaline that was coursing through my body just minutes before. "You know exactly what I fucking thought."

Sara smiles slightly, "Again," she whispers. "You may want to watch it, or I may get the wrong idea. You know, thinking you care and all."

I snort, shaking my head, her comment both pissing me off and making me laugh.

"Speaking of," Sara gets serious. "Why are you here?"

"I'm just going to leave you in a strange hospital having surgery?"

Sara looks at me like the answer is obvious.

"Yes." Her eyes narrow, her features pale, dark circles under her eyes standing out against her ashen skin. She looks like hell.

"Miss Willows," she shakes her head. "I don't know how much more obvious the danger to you can get after what you saw. You need to stop doing this, stop putting yourself near me."

Sara swallows, hands trying to fasten the tie on her hospital scrubs, no doubt given to her by the hospital as her own jeans were beyond salvaging. Her fingers are shaky and uncoordinated, Sidle no doubt still somewhat coming out of the affects of anesthesia.

For the first time, her activities hit me.

"Wait, are you being released?" I question in shock.

"More or less."

"Weren't you just in surgery?"

"I'm okay."

"You don't look it," I contradict honestly, voice softening as I truly look her over. "And you sure as hell didn't look it in the desert."

Jaw tightening, Sara closes her eyes briefly, her demeanor growing quiet and her expression withdrawn as she seems to pull back into herself at my words.

"I'm sorry about that," she says in almost a whisper. "I didn't want you to get more involved…"

"Yeah, I think I've caught on to that particular goal of yours."

Watching her, I approach her carefully.

"Here," I push her hands away gently. "Let me."

Taking the drawstrings from her pants in my fingers, I gently tighten them along her hips, making a neat bow so she can get them off easier later.

When I look up, Sara's head is angled away, her eyes as far from mine as possible.

"Sara…"

Gently, I reach out, turning her chin back to face me.

"You need to talk to me. You need to let me help you."

"I don't need help."

"You nearly died last night," I counter, tone somewhat harsher than I intended, images of her bloodied body flashing through my mind. "This case isn't worth your life."

"I'm doing the best I can," Sara whispers out, eyes lowered.

"You don't have to do it alone, though, Sara."

"The case goes to court in the morning," she tells me. "It's all about to be over regardless."

"Was this your plan?" I ask her, gesturing to her side that's now hidden under a long sleeved shirt. "Was this what happened when you tried to do whatever the hell you were planning?"

Sara looks away.

"No," she says so quietly I almost miss it. "This was _their _plan."

"To kill you?"

"To make a point."

I take this in, noting again the locations of the cuts and the chance they gave Sara for survival if she got to help quick enough. Not necessarily to kill her, but certainly to teach her a strict lesson.

"And are you going to listen to their warning?" I question.

If this was their plan, that means Sidle's is still in the works. Ready and waiting should she still be planning to proceed.

Yes, I want justice in this case, but for the first time, the reality of the situation is truly hitting home for me. The consequences of getting to the truth. This isn't just about me and my safety anymore.

Seeing Sara slowly bleeding to death in that desert…

Sara meets my eyes only briefly, but it's long enough to see her answer.

"God, you're going to get yourself killed," I breathe out at the stubborn girl.

"So are you," she counters, pulling her belongings out of a clear plastic bag at her bedside and placing her possessions in her pockets. "Like I said, you shouldn't be here with me."

"I don't know anything. You won't fucking tell me anything, so why the hell does it matter if we're standing in the same room. We couldn't be farther apart from one another."

Sara swallows, her features stark and her hands trembling slightly.

"I need to get out of here."

I can tell under her attempts to appear strong and nonchalant that she feels like shit. Not that she'll admit it, but she looks like she's on the verge of either passing out or vomiting.

"I'll give you a ride."

"Not safe."

"Stop trying to protect me."

"Stop trying to get yourself killed." Her eyes lift to mine, the desperation there. "Court is in the morning, I won't have you killed now that I've put up with you and kept you safe this long."

I snort, noting the ghost of a smirk on her face.

"No offense, but your place probably isn't safe anyway," I tell her. "Whether or not I'm the one to drive you there is a bit of a moot point."

"Ideas?"

Thinking about it, I nod.

"Actually, yes."

* * *

"This is your plan?" Sara questions, raising a dark brow as she slowly exits the SUV, her hand resting carefully along her injured side.

"You have a better one?"

Sidle concedes defeat, remaining quiet as we slowly make our way through the glass doors.

"I hear you have some favorite labs in the back."

Sara sends me a look, but dutifully leads the way. I'm grateful that it's still, though barely, daytime, making it less likely for us to run into any members of Sara's team. Including Grissom.

Entering the dimly lit room, I turn on the lights as I close and lock the door. Seeing Sara stiffen and whirl around at the sound, I raise my hands in a calming gesture.

"Relax," I tell her. "I'm not locking you in here or planning some horrible attack on you. I just figured better safe than sorry. Our goal is to make it safely to morning, yes?"

Sara watches me, expression guarded as she finally looks away, taking a seat along the back counter as I draw the blinds closed. Watching her wince as she places herself down on the hard surface, I inwardly cringe.

I can only imagine how it would feel to be stabbed once, let alone twice. Then, to essentially release myself from the hospital only hours after surgery. Yet, Sara doesn't complain or make one single comment about her pain.

Closing her eyes, she leans her head back into the shelf behind her.

"Tell me about your daughter."

Her words surprise me, drawing my gaze up to assess her.

Seeing the light sheen of sweat covering her skin, the continued trembling of her hands, I realize she's probably trying to focus on something other than how she's feeling right now. Which, honestly looks like she's grown even dangerously closer to vomiting.

If this will help in some way make this waiting period easier for her, I can't find it in me to deny that to her.

Plus, I never have to be asked twice to talk about my beautiful girl.

"Her name is Lindsey," I sit on one of the open stools at the evidence table, picking one on the other side of the room as to not crowd my standoffish companion. "She's five, though she acts like she's sixteen most of the time. Or at least her attitude does."

Sara smiles slightly, her eyes closing as I talk, her body trying to relax.

"She's just starting school," I continue. "And she's enamored with learning everything there is to know about everything. So curious, always asking me why things are the way they are. How they work."

"A scientist like her mom?"

I laugh lightly, "I can only hope."

I continue to talk about Lindsey, her hobbies, her friends. Her unique way at looking at the world. I talk for a long time, watching Sara closely as I do. Eventually noting Sara's breathing starting to hitch, I see her fighting to keep herself awake.

"I'll be right back," I whisper to her, quietly exiting the room.

Quickly moving through the halls, I find my destination despite my having been here only a few times before. Grabbing my desired items, I hurry back to the deserted lab Sara likes to call her own.

Letting myself back in, I note that Sara hasn't moved from where she was when I left.

Approaching her quietly, I lay the items I collected on the ground in front of her on the floor.

"Take my hand," I call to her softly, reaching out and gently taking her cold hand in mine.

"Hmm?" she asks absently, barely conscious as I gently help her off the counter.

Laying her down on the cushions and blanket I pillaged from the break room couch, I feel her hand tighten in mine.

"You're okay," I tell her softly. "Just going to lay us down and try to get some sleep before morning."

Setting my alarm on my phone to be sure we have plenty of time before court to figure out changes of clothes and showers, I take hold of the blanket and gently drape it over my young companion's trembling body. Moving forward, I adjust myself so that I'm by Sara's head.

Though I'm tired myself, I'm much too nervous about Sara's current state to let myself fall asleep and leave her unattended. She looks horrible, and the shivering of her body does nothing to make me feel better.

She should still be in that damn hospital. But, short of chloroforming her and dragging her back, there's not much I can do to counter her decision to sign herself out.

Reaching down, I slowly run my fingers through her hair, thankful at least that she's too far out of it to fight me on the gesture.

"Shh," I tell her softly, noting her clenched teeth. "Relax and let yourself rest, honey."

I wish I had something to give her to help her with the pain, but I have no idea what the doctors gave her at the hospital and what would be safe and what wouldn't.

And, I know that Sara would refuse anything I would offer her anyway.

So, instead, I will settle for this small gesture, carefully tracing my fingers through her soft hair.

"You're alright, Sara," I tell her quietly. "I've got you. Relax."

Leaning my head back, I let out a sigh.

When I first arrived in Vegas, I never imagined this is where I would be and what I would be doing the night before this case goes to court. And, something tells me that Sara's words earlier were a lie.

_"The case goes to court in the morning...it's all about to be over regardless."_

No, court is not the end of this. Much as she likely hoped I'd believe her, I suspect court is really the start.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Thanks everyone for reading. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 8

"_Tell the truth and then run." _

_Proverb_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Really?" I raise a brow, holding up the note in my hands.

Sara has enough decency to look slightly abashed.

"Sorry," she mumbles mostly to herself. "I thought you'd still be asleep."

"Right," I state, standing and stretching my body, trying to work out the numerous kinks from having spent the better part of the night on a tile floor.

"You should get some decent rest," Sara suggests from her place at the opposite side of the room, cringing slightly at my cracking joints. "There's still hours before court. Which I know you'll want to be at no matter how hard I try to sway you otherwise."

I don't even bother answering the last part. Sara and I both know I'll be in that damn courtroom come hell or high water.

"What about you?" I question, tapping the less than informative note I caught the brunette leaving beside me as she tried to sneak out the door.

_Left to do some things before court. _

_Thanks for…helping…last night._

_-SS_

"I just have to get a couple things in order," Sara answers vaguely, not filling in any blanks.

"Of course," I breathe out, knowing better than to even bother getting answers from Sara at this point.

I've failed enough times on this case to get Sara to open up that I've learned now to save a lot of time up front by not even bothering.

Sara pushes herself to a stand, paling slightly as she does so.

"You sure you're up for this?" I ask her, knowing she has to be in serious pain.

"Doesn't matter if I am or not," is her deflecting answer.

"Get some rest," Sara offers somewhat awkwardly as she moves to the door. "And, uh, thanks again…for…you know…"

I nod, knowing it's pointless to try to keep her here. I send her a small smile instead to let her know I understand what she's having trouble expressing.

"Sidle," I call her back just as she's almost out the door.

Hazel eyes meet mine.

"Good luck today."

Watching me silently for a moment, Sara eventually nods.

"Thanks."

And with that, she's gone.

* * *

Pacing up and down the marble flooring, I tap my notes anxiously against my hip.

Step.

Tap.

Step.

Tap.

"State versus Sidle."

Hearing the court room doors slam shut after that announcement by the officer at the door, I gather my things.

After what has felt like hours of anxious pacing, this case is starting, regardless of my nerves. Regardless of the fact that I've failed to make any headway despite my best efforts. It's about to move forward whether we're all ready or not.

Following the small group of people filtering through the door, I step inside. The large room is opulent in a way that only courtrooms seem to master so flawlessly. I see Gil sitting with some of his CSIs near the front, but I need space right now. I need room to think and to process all of this as things move forward. I know myself well enough to know I won't be able to do that as effectively if I'm worrying about Gil.

Grabbing a seat on one of the wooden benches in the back, I take my place.

It's not long before the people from the prior case are ushered out, and I see Sara being guided in by someone whom I assume to be her lawyer. The middle aged woman seems intense, fitting the stereotype of a criminal lawyer flawlessly dressed in her power suit and carefully manicured hair.

She whispers something to Sidle, the brunette herself dressed in a simple, yet stunning outfit of her own. Fitted grey dress pants, complimented by a midnight blue blouse.

But, it's not really her clothing that has my attention.

It's how damn good she is at hiding what's underneath it.

No one in this room would ever guess that she has multiple stab wounds and lacerations hidden under that silky blouse. And, only a slight wince as Sara stands to her full height lets me know I didn't just imagine the whole damn thing.

Hitting the wooden gavel loudly on the imposing judge's stand, the elderly man looks almost bored.

"State versus Sidle. Are all parties present?"

A chorus of 'yes, your honor's follows.

"What are the charges sought by the prosecution?"

"Criminally negligent manslaughter."

Sidle's jaw tightens slightly as the rest of the room falls deathly quiet.

"And how does the defendant plead?"

Seconds tick by, the air still and silent.

"Miss Sidle?"

Sara swallows, her eyes falling briefly to a man I recognize as Captain Jim Brass.

An almost imperceptible nod passes between them. Then, Sara squares herself, expression determined and stoic.

"Not guilty."

The judge nods like this is what he hears every day, which it likely is, and gestures to a stack of papers on his overflowing desk.

I, on the other hand, am shocked.

Sara hasn't been cooperative with my investigation, not at all. But she's never negated her guilt in leaving Gabriel Williams at that scene. In all our interactions, she made it abundantly clear that she was aware of her actions, and of Gabe's death resulting from them.

I would have bet my life on her continuing her stance and pleading guilty.

"I've reviewed the evidence in this case, and I deem it ready to proceed to criminal court. Court date is set for two days from now, November 19th at 8:00am."

"The prosecution would like to request that Sidle be held without bond until that time, your honor."

"Reason?"

"She's a CSI, your honor. Being tried in the city where she works. The prosecution would feel more comfortable if there were no opportunities for evidence to…change. Sidle has a lot of connections in this department and we simply seek to maintain the integrity of this case."

The judge considers this for a moment, taking the longest pause yet, and even then it doesn't last more than a few seconds.

"Granted."

"Objection!" Sidle's lawyer yells out, face appalled and flustered. Clearly she didn't see this coming.

"My decision is final."

Pounding his gavel to mark the end of this particular discussion, or lack thereof, the room is already filled with people leaving and entering for the next case.

Sara's jaw tightens, and again her eyes go to Brass. She sends him a silent message, along with another barely noticeable nod.

Feeling someone at her back, Sidle flinches away.

Then, seeing the court officer with his cuffs out, she swallows tightly before submitting and placing her arms behind her back. Hands cuffed, her lawyer quickly whispers something near Sara's ear.

Then, Sidle is escorted out of the room.

Brass waits until she disappears from site, then checks his watch, and makes a rapid exit of his own.

_What in the hell are you two up to…_

* * *

"And his cell?"

"Goes silent just like hers did. No pings, no data activity. Nothing."

"So we have Sidle's cell and Brass's cells both going completely silent at exactly the same time. Which happens to be the same time Sidle is seen leaving her crime scene with a loaded weapon."

"Correct."

"And, for no activity to be present, they have to have intentionally turned off their phones."

"And removed the battery," Vince amends. "Otherwise the SIM card can still be active though the device is off."

"Just like my traces on Sidle's cell," I think aloud, having used the technique often enough these past days to track down the elusive young CSI via the tower pings from her cell. "But both Sidle and Brass knew they could still be traced…removing their batteries to ensure there would be no evidence whatsoever of their locations…"

Pinching my temples, I breathe out an exhausted sigh.

"Thanks, Vince," I offer before we hang up.

The subtle nods between Sidle and Brass at court did not go unnoticed by me. But, just like the other leads in this case, I've hit pretty much a dead end. I can safely assume that Brass and Sidle were together wherever the hell she went to, but where that is or what they were doing is still a mystery to me.

Glancing at the clock, I realize that perhaps it's not going to be a mystery for much longer. Having worked this new angle for the better part of a day and a half, I'm now hours away from the start of Sidle's criminal court case.

For better or worse, this case is moving forward without me.

Again.

* * *

When court resumes, this time it's a very different atmosphere than the preliminary hearing. The courtroom is entirely full, for one thing, some people resorting to standing near the back. Large portions of the side aisles are taken up by large television news cameras, their associated reporters hunched nearby with their recording devices and pens at the ready.

Having worked this case mostly on my own for the last weeks, it was easy to forget that this is a case featuring a prominent division of Vegas' law enforcement. A case featuring a CSI's role in the death of her partner.

This is the type of story that gets media attention.

Feeling the palpable tension in the room rising even further, before I know it the courtroom is ushered to attention, everyone standing as the judge enters from his chambers. Unlike the previous judge, this one looks like he is anything but bored. In fact, it looks like his piercing gaze is trying to burn holes in the guests invading his courtroom.

When everyone sits after he does, for the first time I get a clear glimpse of Sara as she and the other members of the defense and prosecution remain standing.

It's amazing how different she looks from just a few days ago. While at her prior preliminary hearing she looked strong and untouchable, today she looks like she's doing everything in her power just to remain upright. She still has her characteristic intensity about her, but she looks like she's been through hell these past two days.

I can only hope they got her proper medical attention for her injuries while she's been in custody, not to mention kept her separated from the other inmates traveling in and out of holding – most of whom Sidle likely played a role in convicting. But, seeing her current state of being, I'm beginning to suspect perhaps my hopes are unfounded.

"Jesus…" I mutter, not wanting to think too hard about that possibility and what it would mean for Sidle.

"Miss Sidle, for the record, your plea is that of not guilty. Correct?"

"Yes, your honor."

"Are both sides ready to proceed?"

"Yes your honor," is stated in unison by the two lawyers standing stiffly behind their respective tables.

"Have a seat. Proceed with opening statements."

It's clear that this judge is not messing around, his dark gaze falling swiftly on the prosecution. He reminds me of old college professors I used to have, ones that could intimidate you by their sheer presence.

The prosecution, however, doesn't seem to let the tense mood affect them as they lay out their case. The lead prosecutor emphasizing Sara's decision to leave Gabriel Williams alone at an active crime scene, violating nearly a dozen policies, and his resulting death from those actions.

As the prosecution talks about Gabe, they emphasize the kind, warm, brilliant young man that he was. The type of man that was loved and respected by everyone. Then, with heart wrenching bluntness, they refer to his family who is now left with this senseless loss of their beloved husband and father. A loss that they emphasize was the result of sheer negligence and carelessness by a partner who was more concerned about herself and her own agenda than the well-being of her partner.

As the words are voiced, each harder to stomach than the last, I see Sidle's features grow darker, her shoulders seeming to struggle to remain erect as the burden of each statement no doubt hits deeper and deeper. When her eyes shift slightly behind her, for the first time I notice the woman shooting daggers at the back of the brunette's head.

Their eyes meet, and Sidle's expression is nothing short of haunted. Swallowing tightly, the young CSI forces herself to face back to the prosecutor.

I don't need any further evidence that that other woman is Gabe's wife.

Swallowing tightly myself against the tense and dark mood in the courtroom, I watch the prosecutor finish his statement and take his seat.

"Defense?"

Rising, Sara's lawyer straightens her suit jacket before stepping forward.

"Defense would like to file an official motion for dismissal of this case."

Murmurs of surprise can be heard throughout the courtroom.

"Excuse me?" the judge questions, dark eyes narrowing.

"We are asking that this case be dismissed," Sara's lawyer repeats slowly.

"I heard you, Ms. Parker. I'm not hearing impaired. I am, however, very confused and eagerly awaiting your explanation for such a request."

"We are requesting that this case be dismissed on grounds of clear evidence of innocence and lack of jurisdiction."

"Excuse me?"

Sara's lawyer simply holds her ground.

"This case involves a much larger case, which is currently being overseen by another jurisdictional entity."

"You better start spelling this out for me very clearly, Ms. Parker. Before I get even more upset with this charade."

"No charade," the lawyer shrugs confidently. "This case is part of an active investigation. One which can account for Sidle's whereabouts at the crime scene. Negating the prosecution's entire set of charges and accusations they just presented."

"Active investigation by whom? What other jurisdictional entity?"

Ms. Parker hesitates only a moment, her eyes falling to a man I previously overlooked sitting in the front row. A stern looking middle aged man in a well-tailored suit.

"The FBI, your honor."

More murmurs are present throughout, the judge banging his gavel loudly on the wooden ledge before him as every television camera is focused straight ahead, red recording lights standing out like multiple tiny glowing eyes.

"That's enough!" the judge yells sternly to the courtroom, waiting with stern eyes until there isn't a single noise to be heard, everyone pulled into complete silence.

"Ms. Parker, explain yourself. Now."

"Sidle is involved in an active investigation with the FBI. One that she was involved in at the time of Investigator Williams' murder. Her whereabouts are not permissible for me to disclose here, but she was ordered to leave the scene that day by the lead FBI investigator in the case. Ordered by a superior officer, Sidle had no choice but to leave despite her own reservations."

"Objection!"

"No," the judge calls, pointing his gavel at the prosecutor who has gone completely pale. "This I want to hear."

"I have all of the documentation of Sidle's participation in the FBI investigation. Including her notifying her FBI supervisor the day in question that there were no officers on scene and that her partner would be alone, against policy as well as her own judgement. I have documentation of him ordering her to leave despite her voiced reservations, stating that they would provide their own undercover officers as soon as possible. Sidle followed those orders as demanded by her superior, justifying her actions to this court and eliminating the entire basis of the prosecution's case. All of these events are documented here, in both transcript and audio recording formats. These have also all been confirmed and signed off on by the FBI."

"Why the hell was this not brought to my attention sooner?"

"The FBI investigation was confidential, and I have only recently been allowed permission by the FBI to release this information due to this having become an active criminal case."

"I will not have any of this cloak and dagger bullshit in my courtroom. I want to review those documents."

"Of course, your honor," Ms. Parker states, for the first time growing slightly hesitant. "But, we would also like to mention that we would like not only for this case to be dismissed, but we are officially filing our own counter charges."

The judge's eyes widen.

"Against whom?"

"It will become clear enough when you review the documents. But, for the sake of this courtroom and those present here, I will disclose that we are moving to charge multiple members of the LVPD, multiple Vegas CSIs, numerous government officials, and some…court judges."

Face reddening in anger, the judge extends his hand.

"Documents. Now."

Silently stepping forward and handing the judge what has to be hundreds of pages of paper, Ms. Parker returns to her table.

"Sidle, for over a year, has been part of an undercover investigation run by the FBI looking at multiple members of the Vegas jurisdictional and law enforcement divisions for question of evidence tampering, bribery, blackmailing, money laundering, and wrongful convictions."

Ms. Parker stands up straight.

"As you'll see shortly, one of the named parties being charged is you, your honor. Which," she suggests with her own intense stare, "regardless of whether you allow complete dismissal of this case, should be more than enough to issue a mistrial."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks as always to you guys who read and take the time to review. Love hearing from you and brightens my day. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 9

"_Among a people generally corrupt, liberty cannot long exist." _

_Edmund Burke_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You should have told me!"

"I couldn't!"

"You take one of _my _CSIs and have her working undercover for the FBI, you _damn _well could have told me that, Jim!"

"The inquiry was of this department, Gil, it involved CSIs on your own team. The only way to keep this, and _you_, off the hook was to keep you in the dark." Jim shakes his head, his skin red with anger. "You're the supervisor, in a position of power. You're the last person I could have told about an investigation regarding internal corruption."

"So you just feed Sara to the wolves instead."

"That's not fair and you know it," Jim seethes, an angry finger pointing directly at Gil's chest. "Sara figured out the corruption all her own. Started running her own damn investigation into it. Triggered the FBI's attention. They knew they really had limited options at that point."

"Fire her or hire her," Gil seethes under his breath.

"We've both known that girl is too smart for her own damn good sometimes."

For the first time, Gil seems to let some of the anger push out of him, a weary exhaustion painting his features instead.

"You knew…this whole time…"

Jim stands silently in Gil's office, letting his friend come to terms with the latest revelations just slammed in his face.

"Who else?"

Jim doesn't hesitate. "Just Sara."

"And you."

Brass nods solemnly. "Sara came to me with her suspicions when she first started noticing something was wrong. Said I was…"

The detective trails off, realizing what he was about to say and the impact it would have on his friend.

"She said you were the only one she could trust."

Brass pauses, watching his companion.

"Yes," he eventually admits.

"How did she…what was it…"

Jim pulls his tie down from his neck, losing the knot as he lets out a breath.

"Evidence was going missing, but only a few cases here and there. Then things were checked out from the evidence locker with signatures she'd never seen in the log books before. Then, perhaps the most suspect, the missing evidence started coming back very quickly after the time it went missing. But wrong."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning weapons were logged back in as the originals when they weren't, clothing had been altered slightly, bullets swapped with nearly identical matches."

"To what end?"

"Sara had the same question. Started following the cases involving bogus or tampered evidence. Watched them proceed from start to finish. Saw guilty suspects getting innocent verdicts due to insufficient evidence, reasonable doubt, things you'd expect in some cases. Then she noticed innocent suspects getting sentences based on evidence that seemed entirely too good to be true. She pulled all the files, reworked all the evidence on her own. Said they had been very very careful, but not quite careful enough. Not to trick her, at least."

"Someone was, what, stacking the decks? Playing the justice system and manipulating it into getting the outcomes they desired?"

"The outcomes they were paid to accomplish," Jim affirms.

"How many?"

"Handful of judges, a few CSIs…" Jim hesitates, his expression again growing angry. "More than a few cops."

"And the trail originated from where?"

"Mostly the criminal element. Influential criminal establishments in this city approach judges to sway cases for their affiliates, offer a lucrative payout that only drug lords and criminals can seem to offer now a days. Payouts that certainly rival what most public servants would make in an entire career."

"Judge then turns to those on the inside to make things happen. Cops. CSIs. Make the evidence say what he's getting paid good money to make sure it says. He gets his cut, they get theirs."

Jim nods.

"Became quite an underground system, honestly. They had everything so streamlined that each case barely took more than a couple points of contact to completely sway the way they wanted. Very hard to track."

"But then came Sara."

Jim smiles, "Biggest mistake they made was to try to tamper one of Sara Sidle's cases."

Gil goes quiet, taking this all in. Then, he pulls his glasses from his face, rubbing his temples.

"My team?"

"Cleared," Jim reassures confidently.

"And Gabe?"

It's clear from his strained tone that this is a question he's been holding back asking. Likely for fear of hearing Brass' answer.

"I…"

Brass trails off.

"It's still an ongoing case," he says quietly. "I can't really comment more than I've already said regarding those that have been cleared."

Gil watches his friend, perhaps trying to figure out if Brass is just letting him down easy, or if he's being truthful. Maybe deciding he ultimately doesn't want to know anyway, Gil straightens up.

Then, finally, he notices me standing by his doorway.

"Catherine."

Brass turns, surprised to see me now approaching behind him.

"Sorry," I offer, gesturing behind me. "I was just on my way to my car. Was hoping to catch you for a bit to get an update about what happens now."

Both of them watch me silently.

"You know, with Sara. And everything."

Brass continues assessing me, his distrusting gaze reminding me a lot of the brunette I just mentioned. I can see he cares for her, his protective nature evident.

"They're deciding now," Gil finally answers. "The DA and alternate judges have been called in and are meeting with the prosecution and defense in their chambers."

"But it's a mistrial, yes?"

Gil nods, "Yes, pretty much has to be. But the prosecution is going to have to decide whether they want to file a retrial."

"They wouldn't…."

I trail off, seeing Jim's expression.

"Right?"

Jim looks away, for the first time his strong façade wavering slightly. It lets me know just how much his own role in all of this has been weighing on him. And, knowing how protective he is of Sidle, I can't help but wonder if he somehow feels guilty for what's transpired with her. This case. Her being held in custody. Everything she's been up to this past year, on loan to the FBI.

And, to think they don't even know about the brunette's injuries.

"Can I see her?"

Both sets of eyes are immediately back on me.

"While they determine the outcome of this," I say. "Can I see her?"

They go quiet, no one saying anything.

"I'm a neutral party, clearly separated from whatever the hell has apparently been going on here in Vegas."

Finally, just when I think I've become invisible or my companions have become deaf, Jim straightens up.

"I don't see why not I guess."

* * *

"Thank you, but I'll be fine."

"Policy, ma'am."

The young cop doesn't spare me half a glance as he continues transferring Sara's cuffed hands from her waist to the silver loop bolted into the table.

Making sure she's secure, he moves to take his place outside the door. It's strange, but when he leaves I almost miss his presence. The atmosphere filling the room now is tense, heavy.

Uncomfortable.

"Sara…"

Sara swallows tightly, her head turned away from me. While she was never great at eye contact before, she's never been quite this avoidant of my gaze.

"We're alone," I affirm for her, in case that's what's making her so edgy. "Everyone's too busy figuring out what to do about the bombs your lawyer dropped to notice much of anything else, really. Including what the two of us are up to."

Sara doesn't look comforted. And, more importantly, she still doesn't look at me in general.

"Sara."

Gaze shifting downward, her dark hair obscures her features.

"Honey, please look at me."

She doesn't comply, her shoulders tensing slightly at my term of endearment.

"Why are you here?" she asks, smoky voice low.

"Where else would I be?" I counter honestly. "The whole city's practically shut down while people scramble to figure this out. They're going to have to wait for outside officials to come in as God knows how many people were named in that countersuit of yours."

Sara shakes her head.

"Not what I meant." She takes a deep breath, and I notice for the first time her breathing is shaky, haggard. "I meant here, with me."

I narrow my eyes.

Finally, Sara looks up at me, her hazel gaze as unreadable as ever. But, I get an underlying hint of confusion, perhaps even anger.

"This case is clearly over," she says tightly. "You don't need to investigate me any further. So why are you here with me?"

I look her over, the shadows crossing her features, the hollowed out cheeks, the hands she's wrapped into tight fists to try to hide the fact that they're shaking. Her shallow, forced breaths.

"What did they do to you in there?" I get out, voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide as my mind starts to put the pieces together.

Yes, she's defensive, she's angry. But, more than that, she's in pain.

And, judging by the force at which she's clenching her teeth together, quite a bit of it.

"Sara, God, I'm going to get the guard – you need to get medical help-"

"No," Sara reaches out, her hands jerking to a quick stop as she's reminded of the fact that they're chained down to the table. She shakes her head. "No, Miss Willows. Please don't."

"You're clearly hurt," I counter tightly, trying to keep my angered voice out of earshot of the guard standing outside. "And I'm not just talking about the fucking stab wounds you already had. You're in even more pain than that, if that's even possible. Something else happened, didn't it?"

"I'm fine."

I match her gaze sternly.

"Don't." Shaking my head, the severity of my threat rings clear. "Don't you dare, Sidle."

Sara looks away again, hiding her eyes from me as things again get too personal for her.

"Please," she tries again, voice sincere. "You don't realize how many people are involved in this case."

I'm reminded of Brass' words I heard just under an hour ago.

_More than a few cops._

"Shit."

My anger rises, realizing just how dangerous of a situation Sara is in. Situation she's _been _in while this case prepared to go to trial. I'm certain more than a few of the cops who have personal stake in this case have made themselves known to Sara during her stay in their own backyard.

Just like someone made themselves known to her that night in the desert.

I shake my head, wishing I could do something. Reach out to her, help her. Anything other than just sit here while she trembles in a metal chair across from me, chained down to the table like an animal.

"You…"

I trail off, not knowing what to say, what to do.

"Was it worth it?"

The question escapes my lips before I realize I've asked it.

Swallowing, Sara finally drags her gaze back to mine.

"To be able to get justice for all those victims whose cases were fixed before they could even start because some corrupt bastards wanted to fill their greedy pockets?" Sara clenches her jaw. "Damn right it was worth it."

Sara's hazel eyes bore into mine.

"Worth all of this and so much more."

* * *

"You need to get her out of there."

Brass looks up from his cell, for the first time truly seeming to acknowledge my presence.

"Miss Willows?"

"Sara," I cut in quickly, trying to speed this up. "If you care about her, you need to get her out of that fucking jail."

He narrows his eyes.

"She's surrounded by the very same cops she's currently handing over to a federal investigation."

"We've taken precautions," Brass looks at me closely, eyes searching mine. "Has something happened, Miss Willows?"

I hesitate, not wanting to betray Sara's trust. But, more importantly, I need to get her help. Or, at least the hell out of where she currently is.

"You need to get her transferred somewhere safe," I brush off his question.

Watching me a moment more, he presses a few buttons on his phone before bringing it to his ear.

"Curtis," he says quickly. "I need you with Sidle. Now."

Hoping this 'Curtis' is someone who can be trusted, for now I'm going to have to place my own trust in Brass.

"I'm on it," he promises me, sending me one last look before he leaves the room in a hurry.

* * *

"Hello?" I answer groggily, so sleep deprived that I'm only half awake as I pull my phone to my ear.

The events of the last 24 hours have been a whirlwind. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.

"Catherine?"

"Gil?" I question, becoming more awake as I sit up in bed, pushing the covers aside. "What's wrong."

"Nothing," he assures, voice quiet as he perhaps notices the hour he's calling at. "I just thought you would like to know that the case against Sara has officially been dropped."

I let out a relieved breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"For good?"

"For good," he affirms. "Prosecution declined to file for a new trial in light of everything."

"They'd be stupid to think they'd ever get her for anything now, knowing she was following orders from the FBI."

Gil expresses his agreement.

"They're releasing her from custody later tonight after the final paperwork goes through."

"Good," I breathe out, closing my eyes under the weight of everything that's happened these past hours.

"Anyway," Gil states quietly. "I'll let you get some sleep. Just thought you'd want to know."

"Of course," I assure him. "Thanks."

"Oh, and Cath?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we could meet tomorrow morning?" he pauses for a minute. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Raising a brow, I try to read his tone. Coming up empty, I slowly nod though he can't see me.

"Sure."

"Good, see you in the morning. Eight o'clock at the café across from the lab?"

Feeling my curiosity, and if I'm honest my nerves, rising, I tighten my grip on my phone.

"I'll be there."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thank you to those who took the time to share your thoughts with me last chapter - always love hearing from you guys.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 10

_"Plan well before you take the journey. Remember the carpenter's rule: Measure twice, cut once."_

_-Unknown _

* * *

CATHERINE POV

Setting my keys down, I note the coffee already sitting in front of me on the table.

"Thanks," I smile at Gil, relishing that comforting feeling of someone knowing you well enough to know exactly how you take your coffee.

"You're welcome. Thanks for coming."

I nod, taking a few sips of the warm beverage. Looking up at the continued silence, I note that Gil looks a bit nervous. Which in turn makes _me _nervous.

Putting my mug gently down in front of me, I give Gil my full attention.

"You wanted to talk to me about something?" I question, trying to give him the push he seems to need to get this conversation started.

Nodding, he sets his own coffee aside, folding his hands in front of him and placing them on the table.

"I'm down two CSIs."

I wait for him to elaborate, but already my stomach is tightening as I get a large clue as to what this particular conversation is going to be about.

"Sara is going to be out until all the paperwork from this clears, which could take a while. But, regardless, Gabe is obviously not coming back. So we are going to be down people on our team."

Gil states the above evenly, keeping the emotion out of his voice at the mention of Gabe. But, I see it in his eyes all the same.

"Gil…"

"I know you and Lindsey have a life outside of here," he pushes onward. "A happy life in Montana…and I don't mean to impose or put pressure on you. But," he keeps his eyes on mine, "Gabe's position is yours if you want it."

I lean back in the booth, needing some added space to try to process the words that Gil is stating. I knew Gil would be down CSIs, but I had assumed he would fill the positions internally. But, now this case has likely thwarted that plan, internal hires or switching CSIs between shifts not as easy as it would have been before multiple internal law enforcement officers, including CSIs, are being investigated and possibly incarcerated.

"I trust you," Gil says, likely reading my train of thought. "I need people here that I can trust, now more than ever. But, I understand if I'm asking too much."

"You run the highest ranked lab in the country, Gil," I breathe out. "Let's not act like this is just a favor you're asking me. This is also an opportunity you're offering me."

Gil is acting like he's the one putting me out right now, when in reality this offer would do more for me in my career than anything I could have accomplished in Montana.

"I know you were a supervisor on your team back home," he says. "Though Gabe wasn't, I would of course make your position here equivalent to that in Montana. You would be a supervisor here as well, CSI level 3."

As if this offer couldn't get more tempting. To be a supervisor anywhere is huge, but to be a supervisor at Vegas' lab?

Granted, while the reputation of the Vegas CSI lab is likely to suffer from this latest investigation, and suffer dearly, Grissom's team has always seemed to have its own, independent reputation. Yes, the Vegas lab was known to be stellar - the best of the best. But, Gil's team? They were almost superhuman in their reputation.

And, while Vegas' lab as a whole will be blemished by these recent events, Gil's team will likely once again come out on top. After all, it was his team, via Sidle, that picked up on the internal corruption and forced it to light. It was his team member that started the process of identifying the truth and demanding that it be made right - one untainted island of justice and honesty amongst a flawed and corrupted system.

"Crap…" I mutter, knowing this decision isn't going to be an easy one.

He's right, I have a life in Montana. A damn good one. With a team of my own that I love and a city filled with friends that I adore. I escaped Vegas once before, promising myself I would never look back. Do I really want to break my word to myself now?

Knowing I have a lot to think about, I run my hands through my hair, breathing out in a deep sigh.

"I need to figure out what I want to do," I tell Gil. "And I need to talk to Lindsey."

"Of course," Gil agrees, nodding. "And please know that I fully support whatever decision you make, Cath."

* * *

"You okay?"

Looking over at Kelly, I try to smile, slightly embarrassed that she's picked up on my mood.

"Yeah, sorry," I tell her, watching Lindsey as she plays near us on the swings. It's such a beautiful day out, and I'm finally getting to spend time with my daughter. I don't want to ruin that with my pensive mood.

"Catherine?"

Knowing better than to try to lie to my friend, however, I decide to just come clean.

"Have a lot on my mind," I confess. "Gil offered me a job here in Vegas."

"Wow," Kelly raises her brows, whistling out through her lips. "That is huge."

"I know."

"What are you going to do?"

"No clue."

Kelly smiles slightly, reaching out to squeeze my arm.

"You'll figure it out," she tells me. "You always do."

"I know," I agree. "But Lindsey's older now, there's more at stake when I make these sorts of decisions. She's affected more than when she was a baby and didn't know what was going on around her."

"But, you're still always working towards what's best for her," Kelly reassures me. "Just like you did back then. Nothing's changed about that. You're going to do what you think is best for Lindsey, as always."

"I guess I just don't know what the right decision is, what's best for her. Montana is home for us. We have a life there. But this opportunity…"

I sigh.

"This could be really good for us," I tell my friend. "But it also means…"

Kelly watches Lindsey chattering away with another little girl standing by the swing next to hers.

"It also means Eddie," Kelly supplies my unspoken words.

I nod, knowing this is where one of my greatest hesitations lie. Eddie is in Vegas. Or, at least he still was the last time I knew of his whereabouts. Eddie was a large part of the reason I left Vegas in the first place. To now be coming back when Lindsey is old enough to understand more about the world and the people around her…

I don't want him in her life at all. So isn't moving to Vegas practically delivering our daughter to his front door? But, what's worse, moving back to Vegas where Eddie is, or letting Eddie's presence here ruin a job opportunity that could be financially huge for my daughter and her future?

Sighing, I watch my beautiful daughter laughing, innocence lacing her features and the carefree tone of her laughter as it filters through this beautiful day.

"I don't know what to do, Kel," I confess.

Reaching over, she gently takes my hand.

"You'll figure it out," Kelly assures me. "You always do."

* * *

"Sofia Curtis?"

The women who answers the door looks suspicious of me, and a bit angry as well. Her entire demeanor screams 'cop', making me confident that this is 'Curtis'.

"Jim gave me your information," I tell her before she burns a hole in my face with her eyes.

"Why?"

"I'm looking for Sara."

Sofia, if possible, grows even more suspicious.

"Why? Your case against her is over."

I note her wording, as if my presence here in Vegas was to charge Sara versus determining her guilt versus innocence. It's clear she trusts me even less than Jim did when I asked him for Sara's whereabouts.

But, I think I'm growing on Jim.

Sofia? Not so much.

"Please?" I question. "I just want to speak with her."

Sighing, she glances behind her before finally opening her door further, allowing me into her home.

It's modest in size, but it's absolutely gorgeous in its interior. Marble and stonework grace most of the architecture, the house flowing beautifully from one room into another.

"She may be sleeping," Sofia warns me, keeping her voice quiet. "And if she is then you're going to have to come back. She needs rest."

"That's an understatement," I mutter, drawing Sofia's gaze to mine.

I keep my own gaze even with hers.

Continuing on our journey, Sofia stops outside what I assume to be her guest room. Cracking the door open slowly, she peers inside.

"Sar?"

Hearing a slight stirring, a very wide awake sounding voice answers. "Yeah?"

"Damn it," Sofia mutters. "You have a visitor."

"Who?"

"Catherine Willows."

There's a pause, and then a distinct curse.

"Can you tell her I'm asleep? Or dead?" she suggests. "I'll let you pick."

Sofia laughs, "I wish I could, honest. But she's standing right behind me."

"For fuck's sake," Sara mumbles. "Of course she is."

I hear more shuffling before Sara makes her way to the door, pulling a t-shirt over her head as she exits the room.

"Sorry," she offers absently, gesturing to her boxers and t-shirt. "Wasn't expecting company."

"It's fine," I tell her, smiling slightly at the solar system design on her boxers, causing Sara's cheeks to redden slightly as she looks away from me.

"I, uh," I clear my throat, getting serious. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Sara gets the hint, gesturing to the back of Sofia's house so that we can have some privacy. Sofia, also taking the hint, heads out towards the front after one last dark glance in my direction.

Sliding open a back door, Sara lets me go through it, exiting out onto a back patio. Knowing Sara's general dislike of sitting in my presence, I remain standing near the back railing, eyes taking in the desert landscaping around me.

Sara moves to my side, leaving ample space between us.

"I heard your case was dropped."

Sara doesn't comment, only nodding quietly as her eyes also fix themselves on the nature surrounding us.

Knowing Sara isn't one to be talkative with me on a good day, especially if our last interaction was any indication, I get to the point.

"There's something I want to speak with you about," I again preface before mustering the courage to just dive right in. "They're going to reinstate you as a CSI. Once the paperwork goes through you're going to be back on Gil's team."

Sara's eyes narrow slightly, her body growing tense.

"Then why are you here?" she asks. Not rudely, per se, but definitely defensively.

"I'm not telling you anything more than I have," she tells me. "You need to let this case go."

"That's not…" I trail off, looking at her in surprise. "Do you really think that's why I'm here? To fight your reinstatement? To keep pushing you on this case?"

"You still want answers to the questions that weren't answered at court."

Sara doesn't phrase it as a question, and I don't bother denying it.

"Yes," I tell her. "I do. But not at your expense. The case against you was dropped. Am I curious about the rest? Of course. But now it's for my own curiosity versus my job. So, now it's no longer my place to pressure you like that."

Sara's eyes remain narrowed, like she's trying to figure out if I'm being truthful or just manipulating her.

"I know you don't know me," I state. "But I'm not this terrible person you seem to keep believing I am."

I paraphrase Sara's own words back to her, the ones she uttered to me what feels like ages ago, but in reality was just a few handful of days.

Sara finally looks at me, her eyes searching mine.

"I don't think you're a terrible person," she tells me, voice quiet but honest. "Never did."

Clearing her throat, she straightens up, wincing slightly as she does so.

"You okay?" I question, hating that Sara seems to keep getting shuffled from one place to another, none of which ever appears to be a damn hospital.

"Yeah," she brushes me off. "So what can I help you with?"

Taking a deep breath, I swallow tightly. "Gil offered me Gabe's position."

Sara watches me a moment before her eyes once again leave mine, looking out towards the mountains. Her body stiff, her jaw tightening. I don't say anything, letting her adjust to this news I just dropped on her. Eventually, she takes hold of the railing in her tight grip.

"Okay."

That's all she says, nothing more. No indication of her feelings on the matter, but her body language seems to say everything that her words don't.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "And I'm not trying to take Gabe's place. I know that I can never do that. That no one can ever do that."

She stays quiet, eventually her head lowering slightly.

"What did you want to talk about?" she questions quietly. "You don't need my permission to join Gil's team."

"No," I agree. "I don't."

Even though I would like her blessing, it seems unlikely for me to receive it any time soon. Though she's always been relatively respectful with me all things considered, and we've made strides the last few days, I still get the distinct impression she ultimately doesn't quite care for me all that much.

"Before I even think about accepting," I get to the reason I came. "I need to know it's safe."

I turn my gaze on her, watching her closely. "I won't ask you anything directly about the case or what the hell happened to you in the desert, who the hell was bugging my phones, any of it. But, I need to know that 'those people' you kept warning me about are out of the picture. Or that at least that I'm no longer in theirs."

I shake my head tightly.

"I won't even consider bringing my daughter here to live if there's any lingering threat whatsoever from this case."

Sara remains still, her body language not revealing anything.

"There's no threat to you anymore," she answers eventually after a few moments of tense silence. "Or her."

Standing tall, she turns to face me, eyes finally rejoining mine.

"You have my word."

I remember not too long ago when I told Sara that her word meant nothing to me. That I in absolutely no form or fashion trusted her. But, for some reason, I feel that's changed. These recent events regarding this case having been revealed to me and the world, I know Sara was doing her best to look out for me, and my daughter. Even when I wouldn't listen to her, even when I _hit_ her, she kept trying to make me and my daughter safe.

While I still may not trust her entirely, I at least trust her when it comes to me and my family's safety.

I hold her gaze.

"Thank you," I tell her sincerely.

She nods, eyes unreadable.

I gesture back towards the house, "I'll let you get some sleep. Sorry to have dropped in on you like this."

Sara shakes her head, "It's fine."

Risking it, and not sure why I do, I reach out and squeeze her shoulder.

Flinching away from me, she looks at me in surprise.

"Sorry," we both mumble at the same time.

Smiling slightly, Sara turns away.

Taking that as my cue, I head down the porch steps to make my way back around front to my car.

"Miss Willows?"

I turn from the bottom of the steps, seeing Sara's profile as she continues watching the mountains.

"Welcome to Vegas."

Despite having just met me, Sara's ability to read me has always been a bit uncanny. And, she just read me well enough to have figured out that she pretty much cleared my decision to move back here by telling me there was no danger to myself or Lindsey. At least not from this case. And, I refuse to let Eddie ruin something this potentially good for us.

As long as Lindsey has no objections, I'm about to return to a place I'd long ago run away from. I can only hope this time around Vegas holds much more pleasant things.

Smiling slightly, I head back to my car, my heart somehow feeling both lighter and heavier as I take out my phone to notify Gil of my decision.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks as always to the reviewers - it's your kind words and support that help keep the inspiration coming. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 11

_"When a sinister person means to be your enemy, they always start by trying to become your friend."_

_-William Blake_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Shit," I murmur, careful to keep my curse under my breath as I know my daughter is mere feet away, gazing blissfully out our car window as we travel closer to home.

Correction, our soon to be former home.

Pushing down the emotions rising in me at the thought, I try not to think of the faces of my colleagues I just left.

Correction, my soon to be former colleagues.

To say my Montana team was shocked by the news I just delivered would be barely touching the surface. Hearing I was headed back to Montana, they understandably assumed it was to return for good now that the case in Vegas had, very publicly, been resolved. But, instead, I gathered them all together to break the news that I had decided to accept an offer extended to me to work full time at the Vegas lab.

I felt like a traitor. Like I was turning my back on my colleagues and friends whom I had been through so much with together. Working in law enforcement, you learn to trust the people you work with almost more than your own families. You have to. Your lives may depend on it. And, due to that extended level of trust, you grow close. Very close.

Most of them were gracious and polite enough to offer their congratulations and well wishes to me. The other few got quiet, eerily quiet, and seemed to almost disappear off somewhere deeper into the lab after exchanging a quick goodbye. I know their feelings were hurt, and part of me understands that. A large part of me.

"You ready to pack the rest of our stuff?" I ask my daughter, trying to force myself to focus on other things. I've made my decision, and now I need to move forward instead of living in the past.

What's done is done, and those in my life who are truly my friends will support me going forward.

Lindsey and I are about to start on a whole new journey together. And, while part of me is still feeling the remnants of guilt, the rest of me is undeniably growing excited.

"You betcha," Lindsey answers behind me, legs waving up and down eagerly from her car seat. "Do you think there's going to be a pink room in our new house like my bedroom here?"

I laugh lightly, sending her a smile in the rearview mirror.

"I think there just might be."

* * *

Squaring my shoulders, I straighten my blouse for what has to be the fifth time.

"Get a grip, Willows," I chastise myself, wondering why I'm letting myself feel like a new kid at the first day of school. "You're an accomplished, grown woman with a damn impressive resume - they're lucky to have you."

Steeling myself, I push open the glass door to the Vegas crime lab. No shred of hesitation or doubt is allowed to color any of my features. Not even a hint. That shit is to be definitively left in the parking lot.

"Catherine," Gil catches sight of me near reception. "Welcome."

"Thanks," I smile back at him.

"Just some paperwork for you in my office," he says as we walk together further into the lab. "Brass has already sorted the rest out using your transferred files from your old lab."

"Great, thanks."

Following him to his desk, he pushes over some paperwork that I recognize as the standard human resources forms asking about how you want your paychecks deposited, who your emergency contacts are, etc.

Filling them out easily, I sign the required places as I glance at my watch.

"Your team know I'm starting tonight?" I question, noting shift starts in just under an hour.

Grissom sits in his chair.

"Yes."

"And?"

"They're lucky to have you," Gil answers, unknowingly repeating my own private words of affirmation.

Smiling, I appreciate his kindness, his own subtle boosts to my confidence that he knows me well enough to know I could benefit from on occasions such as this.

"Thanks," I offer sincerely, grateful to have him as such a close friend. Even after everything that's happened recently, our relationship is as tight as ever.

"Gun and badge," he says when I push over the paperwork, sliding the stated items across his desk.

I take a deep breath, recognizing my familiar service weapon, thankfully having cleared Vegas' inspection and approval.

Glancing at my ID badge, I take in my picture. The smiling woman looking back at me, the shiny lettering announcing my new affiliation with the 'Las Vegas Criminalistics Lab, Clark County, Nevada.'

Standing tall, I clip it to my belt.

* * *

"As you all know," Gil presses forward as his team respectfully listens silently, "Catherine Willows is officially starting her new position with us tonight. I expect you all to be the kind, courteous people I know you are and help this transition be as easy as possible for her."

No one disagrees, a few of Gil's team members sending me small nods to show their intentions for cooperation. While I expected his team to be nothing less than professional, I appreciate their no drama attitude. There doesn't appear to be any intentions for jurisdictional conflicts or pissing matches to determine who's the boss of whom.

"As you also know, Catherine will take up a secondary supervisory role to me. She is to be considered my equivalent when you are assigned to a scene with her. She is a CSI level three, your direct superior and supervisor on any case you work together. Is that clear?"

More nods follow, a few now looking over at me with renewed focus. Likely trying to figure out what exactly they're in for having me as their supervisor. What my leadership style is.

"For the first couple cases, Catherine will be paired with myself to give her a chance to learn her way around and familiarize herself with our policies and work flow. But, after that, she's going to be assigning the cases herself."

Seeing no obvious argument or resistance to his words, Gil takes a step back, gesturing to me.

"Catherine?"

"Thank you," I offer, stepping slightly forward to stand closer to him at the head of the table. "First, I want to let you guys know how excited I am to have been asked to join you all. You're one hell of a team," I state honestly. "It's truly an honor to be able to join you in the amazing work that you do."

Swallowing, I grow quieter, voice heavy under the next words that need to be stated.

"I'm very sorry about what happened to Gabe. I know he was your close colleague, and your friend. He seemed to be an amazing man, and I only regret that I never got the chance to meet him." I look them all in the eye, seeing them looking back at me with equal intensity. "I have no intentions of trying to replace him, no one can do that."

I let them all see the honesty in what I'm saying.

"I also have no intentions of changing the way you guys work here. Yes, I will be your superior, but you have all proven through your exemplary work that you don't need someone to change any damn part of what you guys obviously already do so well. I'm here to help you, work with you, and grow alongside you as we all try to move forward from everything that's happened."

Nodding to Gil, I let him know I'm finished speaking my peace.

"Alright everyone," Grissom states, "Let's get to work."

* * *

"Hey," I offer in mild surprise, noting the person standing a couple lockers down from mine as I try to remember the combination Gil gave to me this morning.

While the morning briefing seemed to go smoothly with the guys, there was one very notable absence in the group. The one person whom I'm the most nervous to begin working with.

"Hey," Sara responds, giving me a polite nod as she puts a couple things into the pockets on her CSI vest before hanging it back up. "How was your first day?"

I smile, hoping her rare decision to interact with me and actually continue a conversation under her own volition is a good sign.

"Pretty good," I conclude after giving it honest thought. "Paired with Gil for now until I learn my way around. But I think I'm making progress."

Sara gives me a ghost of a smile before nodding politely again.

"Good."

She turns to walk past me, and I reach out and gently take her arm.

"Sara."

Lowering her head, she forces herself to remain still, though I feel her arm tense under my fingers.

"I hear you're starting back to work tomorrow," I say, having been informed by Grissom towards the end of our shift when he got the news from Brass.

Sara continues watching the bench in front of her.

"Cleared IA," she confirms. "Passed the weapons re-certification. Nothing left in the way of my reinstatement."

Finally, she looks up, her eyes searching mine like she's still trying to figure out if I myself am a threat to that reinstatement. I thought we'd already resolved that particular issue. But, I'm starting to get the feeling that Sara not only doesn't trust most people easily – but that she doesn't trust me at all.

"Good," I repeat her word back to her. "I look forward to working with you."

Sara's silent for an uncomfortably long time before she finally nods, pulling her arm gently but purposefully from my grip.

"Is that all?"

"I'm not investigating you anymore," I tell her, eyes narrowed slightly as I try to figure out why she's still acting so defensive around me. "You don't need to ask my permission to exit a room or leave a conversation with me."

Sara looks away, "You're my superior, yes?" she questions, tone hard to read. It's not unpleasant per se, but it's almost eerily calm. Like she's working hard for it to sound that way.

"Yes, but-"

"Then I technically do need your permission to leave a conversation or a room when you're speaking to me. At least I do if I don't want to appear disrespectful or insubordinate."

Her eyes again shift back to mine, the dim lighting making them appear even darker than usual, the deep specks of green reflected off the emerald color of her t-shirt.

The energy between us is charged, tense. There's emotions and underlying subtleties that I can't make enough sense out of. Sidle's eyes are as guarded as the rest of her, and I know I'll never read past enough of her walls to figure out what the hell is going on with her.

With us.

"You're free to go," I tell her instead in defeat, watching her keep our gazes locked for a few moments longer before she pulls her keys from her jeans and steps to the door.

"See you tomorrow, Miss Willows," she offers tightly.

Then, she's gone.

"Sara Sidle," I mutter to myself, realizing just how rattled I am by our terse encounter as I'm left standing in the now vacant locker room. "You're giving me grey hairs."

Turning, I toss my stuff in my locker, packing up so I can make my way home to my little girl. The one female in my life who doesn't exude drama filled subtext.

As I finish grabbing my things and shut my locker, I let my hand rest gently on the cold metal.

"One day down," I whisper out. "And so it begins."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hope you are all doing well. Thanks to every one of the reviewers – this is always for you.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 12

_"If they want peace, nations should avoid the pin-pricks that precede cannon-shots." _

_-Napoleon I_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You ready?" Gil asks, taking his keys from his pocket and handing them to me.

"Uh, yeah," I answer, looking at the metal items in my hand. "What's this?"

"You need to learn your way around Vegas, driving to our scenes is a good way to start."

I can't exactly argue with him, not only because he's the boss but also because it makes a bit of sense. So, instead, I simply shrug and grab my jacket from the back of my chair.

"Sara's going to be joining us at the scene," he states over his shoulder as we start making our way to the parking lot.

Trying not to miss a step, I keep walking confidently.

"Great," I say evenly.

Though, to be honest, on the inside I'm a bit nervous and flustered that my working relationship with Sara Sidle is about to be put to the test on day one of her return to duty. If our interactions to date are any indication, this is about to be one hell of an awkward shift.

* * *

"Sara," Gil greets, seeing Sara leaning up against her Tahoe parked in front of the yellow crime scene tape. "You go inside yet?"

"No," Sara answers, eyes roaming over the taped off house in front of us. "Wanted to wait for you guys."

Gil raises a brow, alerting me that Sara Sidle waiting for backup is not a common occurrence.

"Brass was still inside," she offers, perhaps as explanation to his look.

Nodding, Gil raises the crime scene tape.

"Ladies first," he offers, letting us through.

As Sara leads the way, I note the officers at the door looking us over. Their eyes are neutral, but they definitely linger on the dark brunette much longer than warranted. Pushing the door to the house open, one gestures towards the darkness inside.

"All yours."

His tone is low, almost challenging.

Chin angling upward in response, Sidle meets his eyes squarely. Not a single word is exchanged, but she clearly gets her message across as the young man clears his throat and suddenly looks a whole hell lot less confident and arrogant then he did before.

Entering the house, I get the feeling that this scene is going to take much longer than the B and E Gil and I caught yesterday.

A _lot _longer.

"Four bodies," Brass steps around the corner, having heard our entrance. "Two upstairs, two out back."

"Yard?"

"Shed."

Gil nods, eyes already taking in the scene as we stand in silence, letting the scene 'speak' to us as my good friend always liked to say.

"All occupants of the house?" I question when I feel that the house has no more silent messages to share with me.

"The two upstairs," Brass answers. "Two in the shed currently Jane Does."

My heart tightens at his wording. People being found murdered in sheds is never a good thing under most circumstances. But, two unidentified women found on someone else's property, murdered in their shed? Really bad news. A deep, dark dread starts to well up inside me, and I have to push it down as hard as I can.

I knew what I was getting into when I decided to transfer to Vegas. Our lab in Montana saw a lot of action, mostly because we were the only lab covering a large geographical area. But, let's be honest, we were in mostly rural Montana. A lot of our crimes were farming violations, MVAs, burglaries, assaults at bars.

We saw violence and theft, yes. But the tone of the crimes were generally void of what I would call pure evil. People murdering for the sheer pleasure of it. Torture. Rape. Yes, it happened, but it was rare. Perhaps a few cases that truly kept me up at night. I knew Vegas would be a whole different environment of crime. And, I'm getting the sinking feeling that this case is about to be my initiation.

"I'll take upstairs with Catherine," Gil says. "Sara, why don't you take the shed?"

Sara doesn't even hesitate, nodding as she absently checks her weapon and moves towards the back door of the house.

_Holy shit_, Willows, I chastise myself. _Get it together_. _Soon you're going to be running cases solo, and it's going to be you heading out into the dark night to process a creepy shed with two dead women inside. You can't act like a kid on Halloween being asked to go into the haunted house alone._

_Sidle didn't even hesitate. Pull yourself together._

Squaring my shoulders, I follow Gil upstairs as Brass shows us the master bedroom. Quickly, my eyes adjust to the dim lighting to spot the two bodies lying across the bed.

"Throats slit?" I ask Brass, voice strong as I let my body start to slip into work mode, shutting out all outside emotions that distract me from being able to do that work to the highest standard.

"And more."

Lifting the shirt of the male victim, I see multiple slashes across his abdomen, blood pooling and spattered across much of the white bedsheets.

"And her?"

"Same."

"IDs?"

"Appear to be Mr. and Mrs. Feller from the driver's licenses in the purse and wallet by the door. David will have to confirm."

Gil and I slip into silence, both of us wordlessly taking a side of the room and working the evidence. Barely a word is spoken, and I'm relieved to see that the easy rhythm we had yesterday was not a fluke. This scene is much the same, both of us processing efficiently, sharing observations when they are relevant, otherwise letting the other work and think in peace.

I'm not sure how much time goes by, but eventually we finish with the bodies and the room, both of us proceeding through the rest of the house.

I see the cops stationed throughout, and I note Gil's lack of any sort of hesitation. It in turn makes me feel confident about my safety. These are Gil's people, his city and his team. If he trusts them, then so do I.

Glancing idly out the back screen door, I see Sara's flashlight moving around through the windows of what I presume to be the shed at the back of the property.

"I'm running out of room," Gil comments, bringing my attention back to the kitchen where we are currently standing.

I take in the number of evidence bags filling both our kits and the floor surrounding them. The bedroom was riddled with blood spatter, and every item it touched was labeled, photographed, and if possible bagged. Sheets, lampshades, pillows, carpet swatches. And that was just the bedroom. Space is quickly growing a bit limited.

Sighing, Gil places the lens cap back onto his camera, hanging it along his neck.

"Why don't I take these things back to the lab. We're almost done in the house and Sara probably doesn't have much further to go either. I can get a head start dropping these off to trace and DNA, have things ready for when you guys get back."

While I'm not exactly excited about this particular plan, I can't really disobey or argue. Not this early.

Instead, I help him load things into his Tahoe.

"Gil?" I question as he gets into his car. "If we need a lead…?"

I trail off, hoping he's getting what I'm trying to ask.

"She's level 2, Catherine. You're level 3."

His answer is clear, simple. But, the dynamics aren't exactly either of those. I hope Sara and I don't need to establish dominance here, her and I hopefully only being minutes from finishing and joining Gil back at the lab, but I need to know who has control of the scene so there isn't any confusion should it come up.

And, though Gil has been clear regarding my status here, I apparently still feel a bit hesitant to enforce that status when out at a scene with his people. For some reason it feels wrong to step up to someone like Sidle, who's been here in Vegas doing this a hell of a lot longer than me, and order her around.

But, that's part of what being a supervisor here means.

Nodding, I again stand tall, watching Gil as he drives off.

* * *

Grabbing my camera, I move around the side of the house to meet Sara in the back.

Pulling out my flashlight and cautiously making my way through the unkempt grass, I note the officer standing towards the back tree line.

"Someone inside with Sidle?" I ask him.

He looks a bit nervous, shuffling subtly closer to the broken down structure.

"No, ma'am…I was just…"

"Just what?" I ask. "Waiting for someone to come out of these woods and sneak up on my unprotected partner in there?"

"No," he states. "I just thought…"

I step closer to him, placing myself directly in his face.

"You thought you'd give Sidle a little payback, right?" I read right through him, seeing the situation exactly for what it is. "She nailed a bunch of your boys in blue in court, and so now you're going to teach her a subtle lesson. She didn't have your guys' back, so now you won't have hers."

I stare him right in the eyes.

"Is that right, officer?"

He squares his jaw, trying to look confident while his eyes are having a hard time meeting mine.

"I asked if that was right?"

He doesn't answer, cheeks going red with both embarrassment and anger.

I lean in, making sure I am as close as possible.

"That woman in there defended the integrity of this jurisdictional department. She rid your department, as well as her own, of those standing between good criminalistics and the corrupt. She put away the people on your force who betrayed the oath they took to protect this city and the people in it. What about all those innocent people they framed for crimes they didn't commit? Or the guilty people that you worked hard to process that they just let go free?"

I watch him closely, seeing his eyes focused squarely on the house behind me.

"She returned this division to the honorable people it should be made of, so that you can hold your head high knowing you are a part of it and that the women and men standing beside you are here to protect and serve like they swore to do. If that isn't having your back," I tell him. "I don't know what the hell is."

Reaching forward, I place my finger along his badge.

"If I ever catch you acting like a petulant child while you leave Sidle unprotected again, I will have this shield taken and melted down for scrap metal so quickly you won't have time to process your new position in the unemployment line."

I push my finger down harshly.

"Am I clear?"

He swallows tightly, features paling.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You sure?"

"Yes, ma'am," he finally meets my eyes. "Very sure."

"Good."

Shaking my head in disgust, I push away, turning to the shed and hearing the officer finally taking up his appropriate post near the door.

Entering inside, the gasp leaves my throat before I can censor it.

* * *

"Holy shit."

Glancing up at my expletive, Sidle simply lets out a tired sounding sigh before she takes another photo of something near the back wall.

The scene in here is as bloody as the master bedroom, but much to my horror a lot of the stains are clearly old. Deep browns and burgundies are soaked into the wooden walls, almost no corner left unscathed.

It doesn't take long to note the bloody metal objects sitting along a workbench.

"What the hell was this place?"

Sara doesn't answer, likely knowing she doesn't have to.

Her eyes simply roam over the places in the dirt where I can see the bodies had been, sadness coloring her hazel gaze.

"They weren't the first," I surmise darkly, knowing a lot of these stains could be years old.

Sara swallows. "No," she agrees. "But hopefully they're the last."

"You think that couple in there knew…?"

Sara nods, "Their shed. Where they have their lawn mower and other items they have clearly recently been using. No way they didn't notice their shed was serving as a butcher shop."

"But why? And who? Them? Someone else?"

Sara looks up at me briefly before looking away, knowing the questions were essentially rhetorical. There's rarely a satisfying answer in these cases anyway. No real conceivable answer that anyone could ever give to explain or justify something as evil as this.

"Fuck," I mutter out, hating the violence and vile acts of inhumanity on glaring display in front of me. But, as much as it perturbs me that this is going to be more par for the course here in Vegas, I am for the first time also starting to get eager. Motivated.

While the crimes are more vile and horrid then most of Montana's combined, so are the criminals. Which, makes it all the more pressing and gratifying to work towards getting these hateful monsters off the street.

Sara takes one last photo, pulling herself to a stand.

Seeing her tense, she grabs at her side as she quickly turns away.

"I, uh, packaged most of the evidence along the back wall," she says tightly, working hard to keep her voice even. "I just have to bag these tools and I'm finished."

"Sara."

"If you want to get some of them in the Tahoe I'll finish in here."

"Sara."

Finally, Sara grows quiet, head hanging slightly as she lets out a defeated breath.

"I'm fine," she tells me, knowing exactly what I saw before she could hide it. "Just got up too fast."

"Were you cleared for duty?"

Sara's back is still to me, her breathing still shallow as her hand holds tight to her side.

"Were you medically cleared?" I ask her again, moving around so that I can see her face.

I can see the answer clearly despite her stoic features.

"They didn't even know, did they?" I ask, realizing I'm essentially the only person who knew about Sidle's injuries. In jail perhaps the infirmary knew, but even then they aren't required to disclose anything. And, knowing how sharply Sara reacted when I suggested letting the jail know so they could keep her protected, I doubt she ever sought treatment for anything anyway.

"Sidle," I caution. "You know I can't let this go."

Swallowing, she moves her eyes to meet mine.

"Please," she says so quietly it's almost a whisper. "I'm fine. I promise. Just sore."

"You are my responsibility now," I tell her. "If you're injured, which you clearly are despite how stubbornly you keep trying to deny it, then you become a risk to yourself and this team."

Sara's expression grows steadily darker at my words.

"You shouldn't even know about this," she gets out.

"Oh," I scoff. "So that's your response? Because I happened to be there when you got fucking stabbed, then it's my fault for knowing you're still clearly injured? And that's not even addressing all the other things you went through in jail."

"You…"

Sara trails off, clearly trying to keep her words censored, keep this interaction professional.

"Speak freely," I give her permission.

Sara's jaw is clenched tightly, her hands in fists as she breathes out through her nose.

"Sidle."

"You tracked my phone," Sara says. "Ran illegal traces on my GPS to find me out in the desert. Then you break into my fucking hospital room."

She squares her gaze against mine.

"The only reason you know I'm hurt is because you illegally pursued me during your investigation. Time after time."

"And so now you're what?" I ask evenly. "Blackmailing me so that I don't report this?"

"I'm asking," Sara takes a steadying breath. "For you to, for once, just leave me the fuck alone. To stop pushing your way into my life when I've clearly asked you time and time again to back off."

Sara stands tall, her teeth pressed tightly together.

"This year has been hell," she gets out. "I'm asking for you to just let me finally get back to my life."

"And what about this?" I ask, gesturing to her side. "You're clearly in pain, Sara. And you don't have to be. Just let me take you to get checked out."

"So there can be an official report for you to file to Grissom? No thanks."

"Jesus," I get out. "Do you trust anyone in your life?"

Sara swallows, eyes leaving mine.

"Look," I tell her. "I can't just ignore this. You aren't fit for active duty."

Her eyes flash back to mine.

"I'm fine."

"You're fucking bleeding!" I counter angrily, for the first time finally losing my own temper. "In case you haven't noticed. Or we can continue standing here beating our heads against the floor arguing this same point."

Looking down, Sara looks genuinely surprised to see the deep crimson between her fingers. The material of her t-shirt shows a trail traveling from her hand towards the waist of her jeans.

"Shit," she curses, quickly pressing tighter to the wound and grabbing her CSI vest from near her kit with her free hand. Pressing it tightly to her side, she glances around her anxiously. "Damn it."

Seeing her gaze drifting around her, she is clearly most distraught not by the fact she's bleeding, but by the fact that she's bleeding in the middle of an active crime scene.

"You didn't contaminate anything," I reassure her. "I've been watching."

Leaning in, I take hold of her by the shoulder.

"Come on, you're stepping outside with me." I match her gaze. "Now."

* * *

She and I carefully work our way back out of the shed, Sara's hands gripping tightly to her bundled vest, pressing it securely against her side.

Once we clear the entryway, we keep walking, placing ourselves a fair distance away.

"Ma'am?" the officer follows us in concern, eyes trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

"Get your first aid kit from your car," I tell him. "Bring it directly back here."

"Miss Willows," Sara gets out.

"You," I point angrily at her chest. "Not a word."

"Officer," I return my gaze.

"Yes, ma'am," he immediately follows my orders, likely still a bit anxious around me following our earlier altercation.

As he hurries through the yard, I turn back towards the angry brunette beside me.

"Move," I gesture to her hands.

She tenses, watching me and keeping her grip firm.

"We're done playing around," I state firmly, using a tone I've perfected for when Lindsey is severely acting up. A tone I rarely use except when I'm really, truly pissed. "Move your hands away from your side right now. And don't you dare fight against me. You are to remain still, silent, and cooperative or so help me God I will see to it that you are not allowed at another scene for months."

Sara's eyes darken, her expression as angry as my tone. But, she knows I'm not joking.

Finally, she lifts her hands away, tossing her CSI vest down beside her as she lifts her arms like a perp on the verge of being arrested.

"Good," I bite tightly. "You are not to move a single inch from that position."

Sara's eyes are no longer meeting mine, the brunette fixing them darkly on the tree line.

"Here," the officer joins us a minute later, breathing quickly as he catches his breath.

"Thank you," I state, watching him looking between Sidle and I curiously.

"I need you to head back to your car and wait for us," I tell him, seeing him grow nervous at my orders.

"But ma'am, I can't just leave when…"

"This is a direct order," I tell him. "The scene is clear, I have my radio. I'll call if I need you."

He hesitates, still looking unsure. But, finally, he obeys, moving back up the yard towards his cruiser.

Waiting until he is out of sight, I ensure that my weapon is still at my side, ready should I need it. Though, I think honestly my biggest threat right now is Sidle who looks like she's plotting my painful death in her head.

Pulling off my gloves from the scene, I carefully bag them as per policy. Then, I don a fresh pair. Reaching over, I lift Sara's t-shirt while I angle her body towards the moonlight.

Taking in a breath, I study the deep crimson gash along her ribs. The same one she got from the stabbing in the desert. It's clear that it was never given the chance to properly heal, stiches clearly having been torn some time ago, a steady trail of blood now making its way down her torso.

What's more, there's also a deep discoloration around her surrounding ribs, and I know for sure this is something new. Likely from whatever the hell those bastards did to her while she was in jail.

Making sure she has proper undergarments on, I lift her shirt fully over her head, watching her grow even more tense at the action. Using my flashlight, I fully assess the damage displayed before me.

Most of the blood is from her stab wound, but there's a lot of bruising along her ribs that continues all the way around to her back. Reaching out, Sara stiffens as I touch nearby the darkest areas.

Using my fingers, I run them along her ribcage, stopping when I feel what I feared.

"Shit," I get out, feeling Sara's body now breathing shallowly against the pain from my probing hands.

Coming back around to her front, I see her eyes clenched tightly shut.

"Sorry," I offer, knowing she's too proud to have protested, but that I likely just made the pain exponentially worse for her.

Breathing out tightly through her teeth, she tries to get herself under control as I place a steadying hand along her hip.

"I'm going to stop the bleeding," I tell her quietly. "Then we're going to figure out what to do about those ribs."

I know that there are at least a couple that are broken. And, I know just by looking at her expression that she's more than aware of that as well.

_Stubborn idiot_, I curse to myself, wondering who in the hell deems it appropriate to walk around with broken ribs like nothing is wrong.

Digging through the officer's first aid kit, I find some gauze and antiseptic spray. Wiping away as much of the blood as I can, I toss the bloodied gauze to the side.

"This is going to hurt," I caution, popping the cap on the antiseptic.

Sara doesn't comment, remaining silent. She stiffens as I spray around the stab wound, her eyes darting away as she works to keep herself steady. Holding her hip tightly to keep her still, I apply one last dose of antiseptic with my other hand.

Applying fresh gauze, I hold them there to try to keep pressure on her wound. Unfortunately, it also keeps pressure on her injured ribs.

"You alright?" I question, seeing her features paling significantly.

She doesn't answer, eyes away from mine.

"Sara?"

"Wasn't sure I was allowed to talk," she gets out tightly, voice harboring a slight tremor.

"Don't be an ass," I tell her.

She glares at me, eyes catching the light of the moon.

Then, without warning, she pulls harshly from my grip. Staggering to the trees, she hunches over, grabbing a tree as the sound of her retching filters through the night.

Shadowing behind her, I hesitate a moment before bringing my hand up to her back, my gloved fingers moving gently up and down her bare skin, careful to avoid the injured areas.

"You're okay," I breathe out, noting her hand clenching towards her side as more convulsions follow. Gently taking her hand in mine, I hold it away from her side, not wanting her to cause more damage to herself.

Vomiting once more, Sara spits into the grass, body pressing heavily into the tree for support. Moving myself between her and the tree, I take the place of holding her upright instead of the rough tree trunk.

"Slowly," I caution her as we move back into the grass, "we are going to finish wrapping this cut and then we are off to the hospital."

"Miss Willows…"

"Don't," I request sincerely. "I'm not letting you kill yourself because you're too stubborn to ask for help."

"I'm not dying," she mutters tightly against the pain. "Let's not be dramatic."

Pulling off my glove, I startle her as I gently but firmly place my fingers along her lips.

She goes absolutely still.

Moving my finger along her soft lips, I watch her eyes as I gently pull my hand away. Then, I show her my fingers.

There, along my skin, is a trail of deep red.

"We're going to the hospital."

This time, she stays silent, her eyes downcast as her tongue absently moves to search the area I just touched. Tasting was I showed her, she spits absently away from me, growing eerily quiet. It's one thing to vomit under extreme pain, it's another thing entirely to vomit up blood.

"This isn't the first time, is it?" I question suspiciously as I place fresh gauze along her side.

It takes about four windings of tape to keep it in place against her blood soaked skin. Confident that it will hold until we get to Desert Palms, I search her eyes.

She isn't answering, and she isn't looking at me.

"Sara," I call quietly, reaching over to take her jaw in my hand.

She remains looking away, keeping her eyes on the grass.

Sighing, I grab her shirt and CSI vest from the ground. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I walk her slowly towards the front of the house. Getting her securely into the Tahoe, I stop to instruct the officer to radio to Gil for another CSI to pick up the evidence stored in the shed. Promising he will keep it safe until then as well as promising his discretion, I join Sara in the car.

As we make our way through the streets, Sara leans her head against the window, eyes closing tightly.

"Let me know if you're going to be sick," I tell her. "I can pull over."

"I'll be fine."

I don't comment, but wishing like hell I could instate some sort of rule that would forbid the brunette from ever being able to use the word "fine" again.

* * *

As we reach the hospital, I step out, draping Sara's CSI vest over her shoulders to help maintain some of her privacy as she is otherwise left in her jeans and dark bra.

As I get her registered, I absently look down at my phone.

"What?" she questions, noting my continued staring as I push it from hand to hand.

"I need to figure out what I'm going to tell Gil."

My honesty surprises her, as well as my answer. Her eyes meet mine in silent question.

"I'm not fond of letting you kill yourself," I state. "But I'm also not a complete ass who can't relate to your desire to want to get back to your life after all the hell you've been through."

Sara's eyes narrow, watching me closely

"What are you saying, Miss Willows?"

I sigh, "I'm saying let's see what the doctor says and then decide what to do from there. I'm not promising anything," I warn her seriously, "but I'm willing to reserve my judgement until I get more information."

Sara's eyes continue to search mine, the brunette hearing her name being called from down the hallway. Turning, she starts to head back towards the voice.

Then, at the last minute, she turns around to face me.

"Thank you…Catherine."

Meeting my eyes briefly, she follows the nurse down the hall, disappearing from sight.

I watch her go, my heart twinging slightly at hearing her finally for once stop referring to me as 'Miss Willows.' Smiling, I let out a sigh, continuing to tap my phone against my fingers as I set myself down in one of the hard plastic waiting room chair.

Just then I notice that my voicemail light is flashing.

Pressing my phone to my ear, I retrieve the message.

"_Hello Kitty Cat. You know, I heard the strangest thing the other day from one of my buddies. Care to guess what it was?"_

_Pause._

"_Good thing you haven't changed your phone number. Though, seems like you changed your address. Beautiful house you chose here, by the way. Love the color. I bet our daughter really likes her pink room."_

_Pause._

"_See you soon, Cat."_

_Click._

Eyes wide, I watch my phone in horror as my brain tries to register the message that just sent chills up my spine. God, how I had hoped to never hear Eddie's voice again.

Shit.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Hope you are all doing well. Thanks as always to those who share your thoughts with me - love hearing from each and every one of you.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 13

_"Fear has many eyes and can see things underground." _

_-Miguel de Cervantes_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"What did the doctors say?"

Sara looks up at me, eyes stoic as she rips the hospital bracelet from her wrist.

"Sara."

Pulling on her t-shirt, Sara sighs as she sees the deep crimson stain marring the material. That, in combination with the spatters of blood on her jeans, don't help her look any less haggard then I know she has to be after the events of today.

"Are you going to believe anything I tell you?" Sara questions, finally addressing me.

I think about it, finally conceding. "Probably not."

Sara looks at me knowingly, "Then we're going to have a problem."

Tapping along the railing at the side of her bed, I watch Sara finish redressing.

"What was your physician's name?"

Sara hesitates a moment before raising a brow. "Dr. Carter."

I nod, fixing her with a look.

"Stay here. I'll be back."

* * *

It's amazing the things a badge and a smile will get you. Namely, access to medical records, past and present. While Dr. Carter was actually doubtful at my first request, he became a lot more cooperative when I told him Sara Sidle was injured during a case, and that I was lead on that case. I offered to contact the commissioner and lab director to discuss, but he eventually seemed to lose patience with me more than anything, patient files stacking up on his desk.

Grabbing Sidle's, he simply walked out of the room.

"Follow me."

Entering Sara's room, the brunette was pacing along the back wall, pale and tired.

"Miss Sidle," Dr. Carter wasted no time. "CSI Willows is requesting to review my notes on your injuries. Do you give your permission?"

Sara's eyes meet mine, the younger woman looking at me so hard that I actually started to become uncomfortable.

Then, just when I thought this plan was a dead end, she nods.

"We had a deal," she told me quietly as I took the file from Dr. Carter and left the room.

I wonder if Sara knew everything that was in her file when she gave me permission. Most definitely not, I would say, seeing as how some of the information in here I would bet good money Sara would never have wanted me to learn. Ever.

But, now it's too late.

When I return to her room, I see her sitting in one of the side chairs, head leaned back against the pastel painted wall, eyes closed.

"You ready?" I ask gently, drawing Sara's eyes open.

Seeing me, she gets to her feet. "Yes."

Sara seems just as eager to leave as I assumed she would be. Grabbing the rest of her things, we walk out together to the Tahoe.

It takes about ten minutes into the drive for Sara to finally break the silence.

"Miss Willows?" she questions, and I inwardly cringe at the return to formality in her using my title.

"Sorry," I offer in response to my silence. "Just a bit distracted I guess."

She nods, brows furrowing slightly as she watches the road.

"Did you learn what you needed from Dr. Carter's notes?"

I know she's anxious to find out what I am going to do about our situation. Little does she know the extent of things I learned from that file have my head spinning in a thousand directions. Forcing myself to focus on the matter at hand, I grip the wheel tighter.

"Sidelining you isn't going to make the healing go any faster, the fractures are set properly but just need more time to fully close. You are to be on absolutely no solos until the fractures resolve. I won't have you at a scene unable to defend yourself or process difficult locations if needed."

Sara listens quietly to my conditions.

"And, you will be paired with me until you are fully recovered. I won't share this with Gil unless I have to, but I won't have you paired with other CSIs who are unaware of the health status of their colleague. That's not fair to them if something happens."

Swallowing, Sara nods slowly, waiting silently for any additional conditions.

"Lastly, you are to check in with me regularly so that I can ensure that you are getting better. One sign that you're getting worse and the deal is off."

At this, she looks less than thrilled.

"Look," I state sternly. "You deemed it appropriate to show up to work with fractured ribs like it was no big deal. It was idiotic, reckless, and irresponsible."

I turn and face her directly at her as we stop at a light.

"If you want my trust, Sidle," I tell her. "From now on you're going to have to earn it."

Sara remains quiet, dark eyes watching the even darker road.

"Is that all?" she asks tightly.

"Yes."

We resume our drive in silence, crossing the short distance from the hospital to the lab.

* * *

"Stay here," I instruct Sara for the second time today, pulling the Tahoe into an empty spot. "I'm going to talk to Gil and grab our stuff from the locker room so that we can head out."

Shift ended almost an hour ago, thanks to our detour at the hospital. I plan on telling Gil that we thought we had a lead that took us away from the scene, but turned out to be nothing. I don't really have much of the fib figured out beyond that, so I sincerely hope he doesn't ask too many questions.

And, I'm less than pleased to be lying to my boss and friend my second day on the job.

Grabbing what I need, thankfully Gil doesn't seem too curious as to our whereabouts, half listening to my story before going into a lengthy description about his own findings so far on the evidence he brought back. Seems like our case has more leads than we could have hoped for right now – at least three foreign DNA contributors on the bedsheets, and a few blood samples that did not belong to our vics amongst the spatters on the walls.

With everything running through the appropriate databases right now, it's simply a waiting game.

Exchanging our goodnights, I head out towards the parking garage. Escaping into the cool night, I breathe deep the fresh air.

Then, opening my eyes, I'm hit with a sight that stops me dead in my tracks.

"Eddie."

Smiling, my ex comes out from the shadows, making his way from the side of a fancy muscle car that I have no doubt is his. Flashy and arrogant have always been his style.

"Cat."

"Look," I start, glancing anxiously around me. "Now isn't the time."

"Did you get my message?"

He moves closer, and I see that he has aged significantly over the last years. Eddie always lived a hard and fast lifestyle, one supplemented with drugs and alcohol, and now the evidence of those hard years is etched into the deep lines in his face.

But, in spite of his changed appearance, he still carries that same boyish grin that has always been his greatest asset. And weapon.

"Yes," I brush him off. "But you know as well as I do that seeing each other again is not going to happen. I moved to Vegas, yes. But I sure as hell didn't move here to be closer to you." I meet his eyes. "It was simply an unfortunate part of the deal."

He advances, placing himself well into my personal space.

"Lindsey is my daughter," he breathes out heavily. "You can hate me all you want, but I'm her dad. And, that gives me the right to see my little girl."

"You've got to be kidding me," I state incredulously. "You really think I would let you anywhere near her?"

Before I can react, his hand is around my throat, forcing me into the wall behind me.

"Listen here, " he grinds out. "She's my daughter. I have just as much a right to see her as you, you selfish bitch."

"Eddie, stop. Let go of me."

"Not until you-"

"Hey."

The unexpected voice startles Eddie, his head whipping around. Seeing the owner of the voice, he relaxes, not appearing to be all that intimidated by the person it belongs to.

"This doesn't concern you, young lady."

"It does when you have a colleague of mine by the throat. You guys can keep whatever sex games you want to play to yourself. We're late for a meeting, and I refuse to let Catherine here get me in trouble with the boss. Again."

Sara's good, Eddie contemplating her story. But, looking around, he seems to weigh his options, electing in the end to take his chances. After all, his only witnesses are me and a scrawny, exhausted brunette who looks like she can barely keep herself upright.

Seeing the determined change in his expression, I grow tense. I know from past experience this is about to get ugly. Very ugly.

"Sara, wait for me inside."

Sara ignores me, instead stepping closer.

"Sidle, that's an order."

"Get away from her," Sara again ignores me, eyes burning into Eddie's head.

"Sidle! Get out of here!"

Then, before I can move, there is the distinct sound of a weapon being cocked, the dark object pointed directly at Eddie's temple.

This, finally, gives Eddie pause.

"I told you to get the hell away from her," Sara gets out, voice sounding more like a growl. "It wasn't a suggestion."

Looking at the brunette out of the corner of his eye, Eddie finally gives me one last push into the wall before raising his hands and taking a step back.

"Careful where you aim that, sweetheart," he bites. "I'd hate for someone to accidentally get hurt."

Sara's expression is threatening, her eyes narrowed behind her raised service weapon. "So would I."

Backing up another step, Eddie pulls out his keys.

"This isn't over, Cat."

When he glares in my direction and finally gets into his car, speeding off a few tense moments later, I let out the deep breath I'd been holding.

Sara turns to face me, eyes looking me over.

"You okay?" she asks, concern coloring her voice.

"I'm fine."

"Catherine…"

"You shouldn't have gotten involved," I chastise her sternly. "Everything was under control."

Sara shakes her head at me, finally lowering her weapon and placing it in the back of her jeans as she no longer has her holster on her.

"You've got to be kidding me," she mutters.

"Look," I point my finger at her sternly. "I don't know what it is you think you walked in on, but it's none of your damn business."

She watches me with stoic eyes, dark hair caught in the night breeze.

"Forgive me then," she bites out, tone dark. "For intruding."

Giving my neck a purposeful look, I can practically feel Eddie's angered handprints burning into the skin there.

Reaching over, she pulls her keys from my hand.

Dark eyes searing into mine one last time, she backs away.

"See you tomorrow, Miss Willows."

Walking off to her vehicle and out of sight, I close my eyes.

Trying to steady my shaking hands, I make my way to my own car.

I know there's no way in hell I'm going to get any sleep tonight.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing - you guys are amazing and your kind words brighten my day. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 14

_"Reputation is only a candle, of wavering and uncertain flame, and easily blown out, but it is the light by which the world looks for and finds merit." _

_-James Russell Lowell_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

Looking up at the ceiling, I hug my little angel closer to me, smiling as she squeezes me tightly in her sleep.

After my altercation with Eddie last night, I wanted nothing more than to see my baby and make sure that she was safe. Bending the rules for once, I let her sleep in my bed with me, knowing my only chance of drifting off at all would be if I knew she was literally safe in my arms.

Eddie's reappearance frightens me, if I'm willing to be completely honest with myself. I'm a grown woman who has matured and changed so much since the times when I was in Vegas. But, Eddie is unpredictable. Add in his violent temper and it's a daunting and nerve wracking combination. No one likes a wildcard when it comes to the safety of their children.

I absolutely refuse to let Eddie anywhere near Lindsey.

And, I know Eddie well enough to know he sure as hell isn't going to simply walk away.

Sighing, I look at the clock. Deciding to enjoy the last hours I have together with my daughter, I push all thoughts of my abusive ex from my mind. I refuse to let him take this moment from me in addition to all the other things he already has.

* * *

"And the unknown bloodstains on the bedsheets?"

"Turn out to match to our vics from the shed."

"That's two, I thought you said there were three unidentified samples."

"Now there's one."

Rubbing my temples, I nod, jotting down a few notes to update my information on this case. The DNA samples previously assumed to be potential leads have all slowly fizzled out one by one. Two having matched back to our vics from the shed, the others remaining unknown.

"What about the prints from the shed?"

"All the husband."

"All?"

"Plus some voids…suggesting…"

"Gloves or wipe downs," I finish for Gil.

"The clothes?"

"Samples too denatured to get reads," Sara answers, pushing her coffee slightly away from her. "No other helpful markings or stains to assist with suspect identification."

"Doc should have the autopsy reports finished within the hour," Gil states. "I suggest we all hope that he has something probative for us."

In the semi dejected silence that follows, we all gather our papers and pens. For a case that seemed to have so many promising leads, it's starting to feel like we're now being presented with one wall after another.

Deciding to look through more of the crime scene photos before Doc pages us, I reorganize my paperwork. Gil has promised me an office, but needs some time preparing the added space. For now, I suppose the breakroom is as good a place as any to settle in.

And, as a bonus, there's a coffee pot within arm's reach.

"You okay?"

The voice startles me somewhat, having assumed Gil and Sara had both left. But, looking up, apparently just Gil had left.

I pick up the first stack of photos.

"I'm fine."

Sara's expression darkens slightly at my clear dismissal.

"You sure?" she questions one last time, her voice genuine, making it hard for me to keep up my stoic front. It's hard to look sincere concern in the face without opening up. But, that's a luxury I just unfortunately don't have right now.

"I'm sure."

Sara's eyes leave mine, her own personal walls seeming to raise back up. I know her even asking me if I was alright was a large step out of the brunette's comfort zone, the younger woman traditionally only choosing to communicate with me when it's both absolutely necessary and strictly work related.

I wish I could give her a more honest answer to her question. But, right now I need my personal and professional lives to remain separate. Especially when my personal life contains more drama than a trashy soap opera. It would take more than a quick breakroom conversation to express to Sara how it feels to have my abusive ex husband back in the picture.

Not to mention it's not something I'm proud to admit to or discuss, let alone on my third day at work. I worked hard to escape the shadow of Eddie and all that my life with him involved. The drugs, the promiscuity, the lifestyle. Working as an exotic dancer while he was essentially my boss, drug dealer, and pimp.

I've been through a lot to get to where I am, and I'm damn proud of my life and what I've persevered through to make it to this point. But, my past is not something that I want people's first impressions of me to involve. I want my new team here in Vegas to get to know me as the Catherine Willows I am today, before they learn about Catherine Willows, the former drug addict, exotic dancer, abuse victim. I want an untainted, fair chance to build my new life here, without the past bleeding in to color it, and me, in a different light.

"Right," Sara mutters, bringing my eyes back up to her dark gaze. "I'll see you at Doc's post."

Leaving the room, I watch her go. The tall woman's shoulders raised and tense as she disappears down the hall.

Taking in a deep breath, I return my focus to the task at hand.

* * *

"I'm afraid our second girl's fate was much the same."

Not needing to repeat the prior atrocities he just described to us in excruciating detail moments before, we have more than a clear picture of what this other young woman went through at the hands of her killer. The same ones her female companion went through.

"And same COD?" I confirm just to be thorough.

"Same," Doc Robbins states. "Suffocation."

"Seems odd," I think aloud. "The violent torture these women clearly suffered suggests rage, anger, hatred. Suffocation is usually an intimate method of killing someone. The same people who bludgeon someone with blunt objects for their pleasure don't typically end their lives in such a personal way."

"That's assuming the torturer and the killer are the same person."

Looking over at Sara's tight tone, she isn't looking at me, her eyes still fixed on the body of the dead woman laid before us. Her expression is dark, angry. Haunted, even.

"You think we're dealing with more than one suspect?"

Sara nods, "I do."

She doesn't expand on her theories any more than that, her body rigid as she looks like she's doing everything she can to appear less affected by Doc's post than she clearly is.

"Anything else for us, Doc?" I question, wanting to get out of this cold, stark room - both for her sake as well as my own.

"That's it for now," he answers. "Post on the couple from the house should be finished shortly. I'll let you know when I'm done with my reports."

Expressing our thanks, Sara and I leave the morgue.

Neither one of us appears to be in much of a mood for small talk. Not that Sidle has ever really seemed like much of a small talk person, honestly.

"I'll fill Gil in," I state, knowing he had some other casework to finish up on, thus his absence from this post.

"Sure."

Sara's tone is distracted, the brunette not even looking up as she continues down the hall away from me.

"Right," I mutter to the now empty space. "See you later."

* * *

"Anything?"

Sara glances up, dark expression holding my answer before she even speaks.

"No," she states quietly. "But I haven't finished processing all the tools from the shed."

Seeing the number of tools she already _has_ processed, I note that the brunette must be exhausted. There have to be over a dozen saws, hammers, wrenches, mallets, and other insidious devices lined up against the wall with evidence tags marking their cold surfaces.

"You want help?"

"Not really."

Sara doesn't meet my eyes, the brunette focusing intently on the notes she is scrawling into her copy of the case file. I'm not sure if it's some version of shorthand she's using, or if her handwriting is just really that indecipherable.

"Did you need something?" Sara eventually breaks the tense silence. "Not that having you creepily stare at me isn't fun…."

"Sorry," I mutter, snapping out of my haze. I gesture to my watch. "It's nearly an hour past the end of shift."

Sara doesn't respond.

Then, when the silence continues to stretch on, she finally glances up from her notes, pencil pausing its rapid motions.

"Are you looking for an affirmation of your ability to tell time?" she questions. "Or is there some point to this visit that I'm missing?"

"I'm heading out soon," I get to why I'm here. "We had a deal."

She looks confused, dark brows knitting together as she straightens up to her full height.

"Lift your shirt."

Now, my meaning becomes very clear.

"I didn't do anything all day but walk around the lab, going to Doc's posts and working the evidence."

"Which included clearing God knows how many of these tools on your own," I break in to her defensive attempts at getting out of this. "And regardless, a deal is a deal no matter if you spend the day chasing suspects or baking fucking cakes. So, please, lift your fucking shirt up before I do it for you."

Jaw tightening at my tone, Sara looks away.

"Sorry," I offer, forcing myself to calm down and take a few deep breaths. "I'm just not in a great mood today."

Sara nods, "I noticed."

Part of me wants to be pissed at her bluntness, but the bigger part of me respects her honesty.

Deciding, despite my unpleasant approach that this is ultimately a battle she isn't going to win, Sara tosses down her pencil in frustration.

Taking hold of the hem of her maroon t-shirt, she raises it to the bottom of her bra line. Moving closer to her, I inspect the wound in her side before assessing the bruising along her ribs.

Pressing lightly near the darkest sections that wind around towards her back, Sara takes in a breath, body involuntarily flinching under my touch.

"Sorry," I offer quietly.

Taking a mental note of the status of the discoloration, I sigh. The bruising still looks awful, not to mention painful. But, I can't say it's any worse than it was yesterday.

Moving back around to her front, I gesture towards her shirt.

"We're done."

Lowering it back in place, Sara puts more distance between us, stepping around to the other side of the workbench.

"How are yours?" Sara questions as I turn to leave.

"Excuse me?"

She gestures towards my neck, the skin hidden behind the high collar of my sweater.

I narrow my eyes. "That particular topic is off the table. In case I wasn't clear last night."

"That's bullshit, not to mention hypocritical," Sara mutters under her breath, eyes flashing up towards mine.

"Excuse me, Sidle?"

Looks like I'm not the only one a little bit pissed off today. While Sara normally bites back her feelings around me until given permission to share them, right now she's letting her anger glare clearly through.

The brunette takes a deep breath in, body hitching slightly as her hand moves towards her ginger ribs – her pain likely only adding to her frustrations and current lack of censorship.

"You get to waltz around here, invading my privacy whenever you want, but heaven forbid someone do the same to you." Her eyes burn into mine. "It's hypocritical."

"You're out of line, Sidle," I warn her, advancing on her to close the physical distance she's always seeming to put between us.

"Anytime you want to cancel our deal," I meet her statement head on when I'm close enough to be mere inches from her, feeling the tension radiating from her body. "Let me know. I'll be sure to make Gil aware of our detour to the hospital and just what you're hiding under that shirt of yours."

"Don't threaten me," Sara gets out, eyes dark. "And don't act like I'm doing this just to annoy you. I'm not trying to be an asshole."

"Do you realize how many times you've said that to me in the short time I've known you?" I question. "Perhaps you should do some self-reflection to assess whether you maybe really just _are _an asshole."

As soon as I've said it, I regret it.

Yes, I'm exhausted, yes I'm pissed about things going on in my personal life. But, I've basically just called a CSI under my supervision a derogatory term that has no place in a professional environment.

Sara's eyes are still on mine, and though they appear stoic as ever, she can't quite fully mask the wave of hurt that passes through them.

"Look," she gets out before I can say anything. "What I walked in on…"

Sara shakes her head.

"I know trouble when I see it, Miss Willows. And that situation isn't a good one. I just…" She looks away. "I just wanted to be sure that you're alright and that man isn't…in the picture…anymore."

Letting out a breath, I run my fingers through my hair, some of the fight leaving me. After all, though she makes a damn convenient target, it's not really Sara that I'm mad at anyway. Well, at least not completely.

"He hasn't been in the picture for a very long time," I answer her. "But he apparently wants to change that."

"Are you and your daughter safe?" she asks, not wasting words.

"Yes," I tell her. "He would never lay a hand on Lindsey."

"And you?"

I sigh, "Now I'm a grown woman who has a gun."

I can tell this doesn't exactly reassure her, Sara's expression looking less than pleased.

"I…" Sara lets out a breath, likely searching for the right words. "I'm sorry he was ever in your life. And I'm sorry he's now apparently _back_ in your life."

Hitting her knuckles anxiously into the table beside us, she finally looks back up at me. "I'm really not trying to pry, Miss Willows. I respect your privacy and I respect that you're my superior. But, if you need me or my help, I'm here."

Taking in her unexpected kindness, I feel my underlying exhaustion pulling even heavier on me. Anger has a way of keeping you moving – when that drains out of you, so does most of your energy.

"I appreciate that, Sara," I tell her sincerely. "I really do."

For all these angry exchanges between the brunette and I, this one seems to be at the heart of it Sidle being concerned for the wellbeing of myself and my daughter after what she witnessed with Eddie. While I have no intentions of making that particular part of my past public, it does feel good to know that someone cares enough to have my back. Especially since I'm still the new kid in town.

And, the fact that it's Sara Sidle offering to have my back somehow feels extra special. Particularly because of the complicated relationship we've had ever since I came to Vegas.

Sara nods, shifting a couple steps away to get back to work, likely feeling that this conversation is quickly becoming much too personal for her liking.

As she reaches down for another tool, I place my hand on her arm.

Jerking away, she looks up. While her reaction was less than ideal, I at least have her attention.

"Before I leave, I just wanted to say thank you," I say quietly. "For last night. What you did. I should have said it sooner."

I make sure I have her full attention.

"Not many people would have the courage to walk up to a man like Eddie and do what you did to protect me. While it was reckless and dangerous," I pointedly state, "I appreciate it beyond words. I don't know what he would have done if you…"

Swallowing down the thought, I take in a steadying breath.

"Thank you, Sara."

Sara watches me before she nods quickly, her eyes studying mine a moment more before she lowers her gaze back to the table. It's clear that she's more uncomfortable by my gratitude than she was by my heated anger moments before.

Deciding to respect her avoidance of this particular sentiment, I smile slightly at the private and stubborn brunette before I head to the door.

"Goodnight, Sara."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Thank you to everyone for your continued support - means the world. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 15

"_Do not assume that she who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. Her life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, she would never have been able to find these words." _

_-Rainer Maria Rilke_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"And you've never seen either of these women before?"

"Like I said, lady, never saw them."

"I guess I'm just having a hard time figuring out how you could fail to notice two women being kept in a shed that's about 100 yards from your property line."

"I mind my own business. I ain't about to go snooping in someone else's yard."

"Hell with snooping, do you ever look out your fucking window?"

My head snaps to my right, at the question that interrupts my own string of inquiries. The very abrasive and unprofessional question.

"Sidle."

Our suspect smiles, smirking in Sara's direction.

"Someone made teacher mad."

"Two women are dead," I bite, directing my glare back at him. "Forgive us if we're running a little low on patience."

I'm not condoning Sara's comment, not at all. But we need to be a united front in this interview, futile as it is quickly appearing to be.

Either this man knows nothing about the hostages, tortures, and murders occurring just next door to him, or he's less than interested in sharing what he does know. Based on his insolent attitude towards us since the start of this interview, I would wager on the latter.

I'll never understand how people can be so apathetic to the pain and horrors of others around them. As long as it's not them or their own loved ones, it means nothing. They can't be bothered to be of help.

It's deplorable.

"I think we're done here," I state in disgust, pushing back from my chair. "Contact us if you feel like actually being of assistance to those girls and their families that are going to have to bury them."

The officer escorts the neighbor from the room, the man never sparing us another glance or even bothering to wipe the smirk from his face.

"Nope," I call to the tall brunette making her own way to the door. "Get back here."

Pausing at my tone, Sara keeps her back to me before she finally turns around, arms automatically crossing over her chest.

"You care to tell me what that was about back there?"

Sara furrows her brows. "You care to tell me how that interview was anything but a failure already from the start?" She shakes her head. "My comment had absolutely no impact on the outcome."

"It was unprofessional," I say sternly. "Regardless of its impact or lack thereof."

Sara's chin lifts slightly, almost challenging.

"Tell me you weren't thinking the exact same thing."

"The difference," I state, not bothering to contradict her point, "is that I know better than to let my emotions overcome me in an interview. I know to keep that sort of thing in my head where it belongs."

Sara laughs lowly, "You think that was me losing control of my emotions?" Her brow raises slightly as her expression shifts to something much darker. "Me losing control of my emotions would have been strangling that fucking bastard for neglecting to report the abuse and torture of two innocent girls that we both damn well know he was aware of."

Hearing her edgy, low tone, I know we are moving into dangerous territory here. The last thing I want is to have an argument with Sara, especially this early in the day. We have to work together on this case, and butting heads over this worthless interview isn't the way to do that.

"Hey," I state softly, holding my hands out to show her I mean no harm. "I'm not trying to negate the fact that I wanted to say exactly what you did. All I'm saying is that in the future I would appreciate a bit more censorship in the interviews you do with me."

I find it ironic that I'm asking Sara Sidle, master of censored and masked emotions, to repress herself. Most of the time I'm wishing she would give me any slightest indication regarding what's going on in that head of hers. But, I feel that we are early in our working career, and I need to be transparent about what I will and will not tolerate from the CSIs that I will be supervising. Sidle included.

"I'm sorry," Sara eventually states into the silence, surprising me. "I don't normally…"

Sara rubs her temples, letting out a breath. The anger in her seems to fade slightly, replaced with the deep exhaustion I noticed when she first walked into the lab this morning.

"You alright?" I ask, suspecting there are other things going on that is making Sidle a bit more abrasive today than she usually would be.

Looking up, Sara almost seems surprised by my question.

"I'm fine. Why?"

I smile slightly before getting serious. "Relax. I just noticed that you seem a bit…off…today."

The brunette's eyes leave mine, her body tensing.

"I'm okay."

I look her over, noting she doesn't look okay. But, I've never been able to get Sara to trust me up to this point, and I highly doubt this is going to be the magical moment she does.

"Alright," I give in, moving to join her at the doorway. "Let's see what other leads we can find."

As she starts to turn, I place my hand gently on her shoulder.

She tenses, eyes flashing to mine.

"I have some aspirin in my bag in the locker room if you need," I gesture to where she's holding her side. "Feel free to help yourself."

Sara removes her hand, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

Squeezing her shoulder supportively, I remove my hand.

"See you in the layout room."

* * *

"Well this is frustrating," I mumble, tossing my phone down onto the table.

It seems like every neighbor of our crime scene has decided to pretend like they aren't home. No one will answer their phone, let alone return any of the messages I've left them. I really don't feel like traipsing all the way out there if no one is going to agree to speak with us anyway.

Sara lifts her head, eyes meeting mine in acknowledgement. She's been quiet since our earlier interaction, silently working on her own leads.

Reaching over, she pushes her still full coffee towards me, eyes quickly back on her papers.

I smile, taking the offered cup.

"Thanks."

Sara doesn't respond, already taking more notes on who knows what.

Something tells me my younger companion's brain works in a way that few of us would follow.

"You sticking around?" I ask, noting the time on the clock above her head.

"Yeah," her mumbled answer responds, her focus still squarely on the pages in front of her.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Not if I can help it."

When the room remains silent, Sara finally looks up.

"You can head out, Miss Willows," she tells me. "I can finish up here."

I don't want to leave the already exhausted woman to work on the rest of this alone. But, I do have to head out and pick up Lindsey.

Torn, I hesitate, fingers tapping anxiously on my own notes.

"You sure?" I question. "I can stay a little longer…"

"I'm sure," Sara answers, eyes moving pointedly to my fingers. "Especially if you're going to keep doing that."

I laugh, taking the hint and stopping the restless tapping.

"Alright," I gather up my papers to place them in my file. Leaving it near Sara's, I head to the door. "Have a good night."

"Night."

"Oh," I poke my head back into the room from the doorway. "Sara?"

She looks up.

"Try to get some rest. Your eyes are too nice to be surrounded by such dark circles."

Before she can respond, I exit, heading towards the parking lot, smiling to myself as I imagine the look on her face.

* * *

As I pull into my drive, I immediately know something is off. There's nothing that I initially see or hear, just more of an overwhelming feeling. And, I know that feeling very well.

Not even attempting to turn off the car, I put it in reverse, leaving my driveway and pulling back out onto the street.

I knew Eddie was aware of where I lived from his statements to me earlier regarding Lindsey's room. But, it's still a shock to realize he's come here.

Sure enough, as I'm turning back towards the main road, I see his car, pitifully attempted to be disguised between two larger trucks.

"Shit."

Rubbing my temples, I consider my options. Home definitely isn't on the list right now as I refuse to bring my daughter anywhere near Eddie. Especially in the pitch black dark of night.

Knowing I really have no other options, I head back in the direction I came, careful to keep checking my mirrors for any sign of a gaudy red sports car.

Turning into the drive I practically just left, I make my way to the door.

When it's answered, my friend looks at me with concern.

"Cath?" she asks. "Did you forget something?"

"Kel," I run my hand through my hair. "I hate to ask…"

She sees my expression, the likely pale color to my skin. My hands that are trembling though I wish to hell I could stop them.

"Eddie."

I nod, embarrassed and pissed.

"Say no more," Kelly states, opening her door fully. "I'll get the guest room ready for you and Lindsey."

"Thank you," I breathe out, reaching over to pull her into a tight hug. "I promise to make it up to you."

* * *

"She's going to pick you up here?"

I nod, "You're going to need my car if you're going to have Lindsey – her car seat is in the back and you can't take her anywhere without it."

Seeing the issue, Kelly sits herself at the table across from me.

Having spent the night at her place, we are both enjoying some morning coffee before the day starts. Luckily Kelly can sometimes work from home, and she's graciously offered to watch Lindsey personally today.

While I really don't think Eddie is a threat to Lindsey, I wouldn't put it past him to use her to get to me.

Glancing at my phone, I read over Sara's text reply. While it took a lot for me to ask Kelly for help, it took much more to ask Sara for a ride to work.

I hate asking anyone for anything, but particularly Sara. Not after everything that's happened between us. But, when considering my other options, she's really the best, and perhaps only, one. Grissom would have too many questions. Sara thankfully is much too quiet and introverted for that.

Hearing the sound of a car door, I stand, placing my mug in the sink. At the soft knock, Kelly also stands, gesturing towards the guest room.

"Grab your stuff, I'll tell her you're on your way."

Gathering my bag and making sure I have left Kelly everything she will need for Lindsey, I move out to the living room where Kelly is watching Sara from the doorway.

"I told her you'd be right out," Kelly says, her voice with a strange tone. "She went back to her car."

"Okay, thanks," I raise a brow.

Looking back at me, Kelly smiles, gaze quickly redirecting back out towards her driveway.

"This is Sara Sidle?"

"Yes," I narrow my eyes. "Why?"

"She's hot," Kelly states in a way that is so completely Kelly. "Like, gorgeous. You didn't tell me she was so easy on the eyes."

I laugh, rolling my own eyes.

"You were straight the last time I checked."

Kelly laughs as well, "I am. Though I'm starting to reconsider."

I smack her in the arm as she playfully wags her brows at me.

"You're awful," I tell her though I can't help but smile at the nice break in the tension I've been feeling since last night. "Ogling my coworker. The scandal."

Looking out, I see Sara leaning against her Tahoe, obliviously tapping her keys against her hip.

"I better head out," I state, giving Kelly another hug as I shoulder my bag. "Thanks again, Kel. I can't tell you-"

"Stop, stop," Kelly waves me off. "It's what friends do."

Smiling, I squeeze her hand, Kelly shooing me out the door.

"Get out of here and stop this hugging nonsense before she thinks we're a couple and I'm unavailable."

"Jesus," I laugh, seeing Kelly wink at me good naturedly. "You're impossible. Call if you need me."

Heading down the drive, Sara looks up as I approach.

"You ready?" she asks.

"Yeah, thanks."

Getting in the car, Sara pulls out once I've gotten situated.

She's quiet, respecting my privacy. Though, when we get close to the lab, she finally chances a glance my way.

"Is everything okay with you and Lindsey?" she asks the question that's clearly been on her mind.

I appreciate her concern, as well as the way it makes me feel cared about.

"Yes," I answer, trying to be as open and honest as I can be. "Just a precaution."

Sara nods, understanding my subtext.

"You…"

Sara trails off, her body tense as she clenches and unclenches her jaw. It's obvious that she's trying to remain stoic.

"I don't like this situation," she eventually says quietly. "I don't like that you don't feel safe in your own home."

I look over at her, but she's adamantly keeping her gaze from mine, hazel eyes burning holes in the road in front of us.

Breathing out, I rest my head back on her passenger seat, for the first time since I spotted Eddie's car starting to feel myself lowering my guard.

"Neither do I."

Closing my eyes as we make our final turns towards the lab, I realize that I don't feel tense around Sara, on alert or nervous.

I realize that I feel safe.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks for the continued support of this story.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 16

_"Power and violence are opposites; where the one rules absolutely, the other is absent. Violence appears where power is in jeopardy, but left to its own course it ends in power's disappearance."_

_-Hannah Arendt_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"I'm getting ready to head out."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

In the silence, I move closer to the table present between us.

"Sara."

Looking up, the brunette pauses as she hovers over the microscope holding the latest trace evidence we collected from the scene on our return visit this morning.

While nothing extremely probative came from the return looks, some additional evidence that was overshadowed previously was brought in. Sara's been holed up in this back lab diligently working through each new lead one by one, hoping to finally catch a break in this case.

"Right," she breathes out, tossing her pen down to stand up straight.

Glancing at the doorway, she ensures that we are in a private enough location for this.

Lifting her shirt, she turns her eyes to the side, away from mine.

Sighing, I approach, closing the distance between us. Eying her torso, I hate the dark bands of deep purple and red that still mar her abdomen. As I circle, her back still holds its own deep bruising, nothing looking necessarily worse than it has the past two days – but definitely not looking much better either.

Moving to her front, I note that the stab wound at least seems to be healing well. Though, from the looks of it, she's unfortunately going to have a nasty scar. Running my fingers slowly down the line of deep red, I feel Sara's taught stomach muscles tense along the path of my touch.

Pulling back, I gesture to her shirt.

"We're done."

Swallowing tightly, Sara clears her throat and moves back towards the microscope.

"Have a good night."

Reading her dismissal as exactly what it is, I wonder when Sara is going to finally stop feeling like she needs to keep putting space between us. Physical, emotional, professional.

Looking at the clock, I glance back over at my companion.

"You heading out soon?"

Just like yesterday, Sara seems to have no intention of leaving on time. In fact, she looks like she barely even went home yesterday at all.

"In a bit."

Her answer does nothing to convince me. Seeing that the dark circles under her eyes have only grown darker since our last conversation, I get an idea.

"I was hoping you would actually be planning to leave now as well."

Sara pauses, hazel eyes lifting from the microscope lens.

"I sort of need a ride."

Sara's resulting silence makes it clear to me that she's trying to figure out my angle.

"Grissom should still be here…"

"He has court in the morning, reviewing his notes in his office. I don't want to disturb him if I don't have to."

I watch the battle between Sara's obsessive work ethic and her manners play out across her dark features. Ultimately deciding not to be rude, she pulls her slide from under the scope.

"I guess this can wait."

"I really appreciate it."

Nodding without comment, Sara takes a few minutes to gather the rest of her things, placing everything neatly back into the evidence locker where no doubt she will get here hours before shift to retrieve.

* * *

"You have a very good memory."

Sara looks over before returning her focus to the road.

"You seem to have memorized the way to Kelly's house even though you've only been there once."

Shrugging, Sara switches lanes.

"I'm a visual person," she says. "I usually only have to see something once to remember it."

"Also known as a photographic memory."

Sara looks almost embarrassed. "Something like that."

I get the impression that someone as brilliant as Sara has had to put up with a lot of teasing and comments in her life regarding her intelligence. Sometimes it's almost harder to be the smart kid, people resenting you for what comes naturally and easily while others struggle.

Turning onto Kelly's street, Sara looks over the houses before quickly fixing on the right one.

Pulling in, she leans back in her seat.

"You going to be okay finding a ride in tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Lindsey will go back to school so Kelly can get to work. It isn't her responsibility to babysit my kid."

"You-"

Before Sara can finish, there's a knock on the driver window.

"Shit," Sara curses, tensing at the unexpected noise.

Seeing the person standing outside her door, she sends me a questioning look. I wish I could be of help, but I'm just as confused.

Sara rolls down her window, one dark brow raised.

"Sara, right?"

Nodding, the brunette looks like she's trying to assess a suspect.

"Yes…"

"I just wanted to invite you in," Kelly states, sending me a quick smile before returning her gaze to Sara. "I made dinner for Cath and Lindsey before they head home, but have a ton extra if you're interested."

"Thanks," Sara says slowly, sounding both surprised and a little confused. "But I'm okay."

"Really?" Kelly asks, cringing slightly. "I was sort of hoping you'd say yes. I accidentally made way more than the three of us could ever finish. It doesn't keep well and I don't want to waste it."

Looking over at me like I had something to do with this particular invite, I shrug innocently at Sara's unspoken question.

"I, uh…"

"Please?" Kel all but begs. "Help a girl out?"

"I, uh, I guess I could stay for a few minutes." Once again Sara looks over at me. "If that's alright with you, Miss Willows?"

Sara's continued requests for permission in my presence along with her continued use of my full title make something inside of me sink.

"I'd be happy to have you join us," I tell her sincerely.

As we exit the car, I send Kel a look over Sara's shoulder.

She simply smiles at me devilishly.

* * *

"California, really?"

Sara nods, looking less than comfortable as she places another bite of pasta in her mouth.

It's clear that she's not going to elaborate further, Kel's eyes flickering to mine. I simply shrug, only knowing the answers to Kelly's questions because I read them in Sara's file. Otherwise I would know essentially nothing about Sara if it were up to the brunette. She isn't exactly the most forthcoming about talking about herself.

"Oh, I think I hear a little munchkin waking up," Kel says, redirecting her gaze towards the back of her house.

"I'll get her," I offer, eager to see my daughter but having been reluctant to wake her from her nap.

Entering Kelly's guest room, I smile as I see my beautiful angel blinking up at me through the dimly lit room.

"Hey there, little sunflower."

Lindsey scrunches her nose.

"I'm not a sunflower."

"You're not?" I question in shock. "Then what are you?! A puppy?"

Lindsey giggles, "Noooo."

"A caterpillar?"

"Mommy!"

"A kangaroo?"

"Mommmmmy!" Lindsey half laughs and half scolds. "I'm a girl!"

"Ohhh," I smile, kissing her soft hair. "That's good, I was worried!"

Pulling her up into my arms, I groan.

"You're a _growing_ little girl!" I tell her, tickling her in my arms before putting her down.

"You want to join us for dinner with Kelly and a friend of mommy's from work?"

Lindsey nods excitedly.

Taking her by the hand, we move into the living room where Lindsey immediately focuses on the stranger at the table.

"Lindsey," I tell her. "This is Sara."

"Your friend from work?"

I nod, seeing Sara's eyes lift to mine in slight question before returning to my daughter. Something tells me the 'friend' portion of the statement is what gave her pause.

"And you must be the beautiful Lindsey that I hear so much about?"

Lindsey smiles, nodding eagerly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Smiling, my daughter approaches Sara, appearing to look her over. At first she looks like she does when she's trying to figure out a puzzle, and then she nods once, seemingly finding her answer.

"You're the lady in those pictures mommy was always staring at."

Coughing, Kelly tries to clear her throat from the wine she seems to have just choked on.

Sending her a look, I roll my eyes before looking at Sara.

"Your personnel file, from Gabe's case. I worked on it a lot from my hotel."

The brunette's expression is hard to read, nodding slightly as she keeps her gaze on Lindsey.

"I heard you just started at your new school?"

Lindsey nods excitedly.

"You make any new friends yet?"

And, that's all it takes, Lindsey instantly diving into a lengthy description of what has to be every person in her class. Giving her unsolicited assessment of who she likes and why – and, more entertainingly, who she doesn't like and why.

Dinner flies by, Lindsey barely stopping to chew as she makes us all laugh with her stories. As we finish dessert, Sara glances at her watch as she places her dish in Kelly's sink.

"I hate to eat and run, but I really should get going."

Kelly nods, reaching out to squeeze Sara's arm.

"Thanks for coming."

I'm surprised at the jolt that goes through me when Sara doesn't immediately pull away from my friend's touch like she does mine. Still not looking completely comfortable, however, Sara politely nods, stepping back out of her reach.

"Thanks for having me," Sara answers. "I really appreciate it, it was very kind of you."

"Anytime," Kelly tells her sincerely. "Any friend of Cath's is a friend of mine."

And there it is, that 'friend' word again. Sara's eyes narrow slightly as she nods before her features return to their usual calm stoicism.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she offers to me. "Thanks."

I nod, watching her as she lets herself out.

* * *

"Wow," Kelly breathes out as I turn back towards the kitchen. "That girl's got dark and mysterious down to a science."

I laugh, "She does," I agree, sending my friend a look. "Which is fun in movies and mystery novels, but no so much when you have to work together."

Kelly sends me a questioning look.

"I have to trust the people I work with, my life depends on it." I shake my head, reaching over to start rinsing some of the dishes. "I can't figure out what the hell she's thinking most of the time, let alone what's going on with her or in that head of hers."

Kelly seems to understand my point, checking on Lindsey before she moves to join me, drying the dishes as I rinse them.

"She probably just needs time."

"How much time?" I question honestly. "I'm starting to suspect this is just how Sara is. I just don't think she trusts people. And, especially not me. She still calls me Miss Willows, for heaven's sake."

Kelly laughs, "I did notice that. Was a little weird since it makes you seem like a responsible adult."

I smack her in the arm with the dishrag.

Before either of us can comment further, I hear a loud bang from outside.

Immediately, I drop the dish in my hand and run to the door.

* * *

"What the hell is going on?!" I yell, eyes trying to adjust to the sight before me.

"She ambushed me, out of nowhere!"

"What are you doing here?!" I all but shout, heart hammering in my chest as my eyes see the last person I ever wanted to.

Keeping my glare on him, I reach over, pulling Sara back from him and towards my side.

"Kelly, get a towel and then keep Lindsey inside with you."

Kelly hesitates a moment, her own eyes wide in shock before she quickly does as I ask. Returning with a towel, she moves up to Sara.

"Here," she offers.

Taking it when Sara doesn't move, I make sure Kelly is back inside with the door locked before I do anything.

Reaching over, I hold the towel over at Sara, placing it near her face when she doesn't move.

"Hold this against your head. Now."

Sara's eyes are burning into Eddie's, the brunette only taking the towel when I all but shove it into her body.

"Someone explain, now."

"I'm sitting in my car, minding my own business when this bitch comes over and starts attacking me."

"What are you even doing here?" I ask him, though I know damn well what he was here for.

"I have a right to be wherever I want to be," he states tightly. "That bitch doesn't have a right to start attacking me for no reason."

"Sara?"

I don't trust Eddie as far as I can throw him. I want to hear things from her.

"Sara."

Sara's eyes are still burning holes in Eddie's.

"The creep was sitting in his car watching the house. He could see Lindsey through the living room window."

Immediately, my blood runs even colder.

"I approached when I realized it was him," Sara continues tightly. "Blocked his view and told him to get lost."

Sara's eyes narrow even further.

"Apparently he doesn't follow directions very well."

"You hit her?" I bite out, seeing the crimson trailing down Sara's fingers where she is holding the towel to her temple.

"She started it."

"Did you touch Eddie?"

Sara shakes her head no. "Not yet."

Eddie advances threateningly. "You watch what you say to me, you little cunt. Or that will just be the start of what I do to you."

He turns towards me.

"And you, still thinking you can keep our daughter from me?"

"Now I'm definitely keeping my daughter from you. Indefinitely."

Eddie moves quickly, reaching out for me as Sara pushes into his path.

Grabbing for her, I'm not quick enough to get a decent hold before she has her arm against Eddie's throat, pushing him back until he collides with Kelly's house.

"Don't you dare even try to touch her, you sick bastard," Sara growls lowly. "Or I swear to God I will end you."

Eddie pushes out, trying to get Sara's arm from off his windpipe. Too late, I see his arm connect solidly with Sara's exposed side. Her side which holds multiple cracked ribs.

Immediately, she's dropped to her knees.

"Sara!"

Before I can move to help her, I'm pushed back violently myself, head connecting with the siding of Kelly's house. In my face, are two very, very angry blue eyes.

"You think you run this show?" Speckles of spit hit my face as I turn my head away as far as it will go. "You think I won't tell the world what a slutty, drug addicted bitch you are and get custody of my daughter back?"

"Eddie, stop. You're hurting me."

The slap hits me soundly across my face, ear ringing and eye filling with tears so quickly that it's hard to see.

"Does it look like I give a fuck that I'm hurting you?!"

"Stop!"

I hate that I'm begging, that everything in me feels like it's resorting to when I was in my 20's, held victim of this man and my confused, misplaced feelings for him. I'm better than this, better than him.

I always was.

When he hits me again, I go silent, knowing from experience that the only way out of this is through it.

Eyes closed, I pray that he's quick. I pray that I stay quiet enough that my daughter doesn't hear me, doesn't witness what is going on just outside of the house she's supposed to feel safe in.

Just as I feel Eddie's hot breath on my skin, his arm tightening its pressure around my neck, he suddenly releases his grip as he seems to fall backward.

My eyes shoot open, seeing a furious Sara grabbing him by the collar with one arm. As Eddie tries to catch his balance, Sara takes advantage and sends a vicious elbow into his face, driving him backwards as he yells in pain.

His stumbling steps gain purchase, his tall, bulky form straightening to his full height. He turns, fuming with rage, only to be met with Sara's service weapon pointed directly at his forehead.

"Look where we find ourselves again," Sara gets out, voice slightly strained. "I thought I was clear the last time. You were not to lay a hand on her."

"Yeah?" Eddie spits, swiping at the blood pouring from his nose. "What are you going to do about it?"

Sara's finger moves to the safety, clicking it off. Then, she draws back the slide, placing a bullet into the chamber, ready to be fired.

"I think you know exactly what I'm going to do about it."

"You don't have the stones."

"Sara…"

I don't know why I'm saying anything really, wanting nothing more than for Eddie to be out of my life. Out of Lindsey's life. But, I don't want it to be this way. I don't want Sara to have to shoulder that burden and the repercussions it would bring. Eddie isn't worth it – I won't let him take Sara down with him.

"Sara, put down the gun."

Sara ignores me, eyes narrowing as her finger moves to the trigger, pressing down just enough to see it move.

"Sara!"

Her hand twitches slightly, but I see the determination in her eyes, the increasing pressure on the trigger of her weapon.

Just as I'm sure her gun is about to fire, the trigger having no play left in its design, the sound of sirens hits my ears from the distance.

Eddie hears it too, his eyes moving slightly away from Sara towards the sound.

Raising his hands, he starts to back up slowly.

"Looks like the cavalry is here," he sneers. "Can't shoot me in front of them now can you?"

Sara looks like she's about to do just that. But, as the sirens grow louder, Eddie grabs at his keys, knowing he needs to get out of here, and quickly.

As he turns, Sara's hand falters. Sara may be pushed to her limits right now, seconds away from deploying her weapon, but having to shoot Eddie in the back makes that no longer an option. It's one thing to shoot someone facing you, threatening you. It's another to shoot them in the back while they're all but running away.

Stumbling down the drive, in seconds Eddie is in his car, peeling off down the street.

As I hear the sirens grow closer, I step hesitantly towards the brunette still holding her gun.

"Sara?"

She doesn't answer, dark eyes on the even darker horizon.

"You call the cops?" is her only response, gaze looking towards something I can't see.

"No."

"Kelly?" she suggests.

Then, as the sirens grow closer, they suddenly start to head off towards the east.

"You've got to be kidding," I state, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

The sirens weren't for us. Never were. But, they may have saved our lives all the same.

"Fuck," I breathe out, feeling like Kelly's delicious dinner is about to come back up. My hands are shaking so badly that I can barely wipe the hair from my face.

Hearing the door open, Kelly hesitantly slips her head out.

"He gone?" she questions nervously, tension dripping from her words. "I thought I heard his car pull off."

I nod, hands moving to my knees as I try to breathe through my nose.

"God, Cath," Kel gets out, immediately moving to my side and placing a supportive arm around me. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"Lindsey?" I ask, needing to know that she's okay.

"She's fine, inside watching a movie on my computer. With headphones in and the volume very loud."

I don't think I can ever thank my lucky stars for placing someone like Kelly in my life. I never would have survived my dark patches without her. Including this one.

"Are you alright?" she asks me again, voice angrier this time as she looks me over. "What did he do to you?"

Her fingers move gently across my cheek where I'm sure I'm going to have a bruise.

"Shit, Catherine."

"I'll be okay," I tell her, squeezing her arm. "Just a bit banged up."

Keeping her supportive grip on me, Kelly seems less than pleased. But, my focus has already moved on to something much more pressing.

"Sara."

The brunette has been eerily still, not moving an inch since Eddie left.

"Sara."

Kelly's eyes meet mine, the concern and confusion clear to read. Her expression tenses as she notices the gun still gripped tightly in Sara's hand.

Moving gently from Kelly's grip, I approach Sara carefully, moving around so she can see me.

"Let go."

Sara backs away at the sound of my voice, but I reach out and grab her wrist before she can move out of reach.

"Let go now."

Perhaps realizing the situation for what it is, Sara lets go of her weapon, releasing it to me. As I take it in my hands and clear the chamber, replacing the safety, Sara steps away.

"Stop."

Looking torn, Sara's hand absently moves towards her jeans where her keys lie just beneath the fabric.

"You are not going anywhere near him, Sara. And you are not leaving this house until you let us take a look at you."

"I'm fine."

"Let's not do this again."

"I-"

"Shut up."

Sara's eyes flash to mine, her anger however quickly turning to confusion as she sees my expression.

"Shut up and let me help you. Let me feel like not everything and everyone I touch gets hurt because of me. Because of my fucking ex who I still can't seem to get out of my life."

"Miss Willows," Sara says quietly, "none of this is your fault."

I look away, angry, ashamed, embarrassed, and about a thousand other things.

"Hey," Sara calls, her voice much closer. "Look at me."

It takes a few moments before I can work up the ability to meet her gaze. When I do, I struggle not to look away again at the intensity in her eyes.

"This. Is. Not. Your. Fault."

Reaching out, Sara gently runs her fingers under my eyes, wiping away tears I hadn't even known were there.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

I swallow, trying to trust in her words, the message behind them.

"The only one to blame here is him," she whispers into the night. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, Catherine."

Breathing deep, I try to regain my composure, knowing this night is going to be hard enough to cope with without adding a breakdown to the list.

"You okay?" she asks with concern, eyes looking over the same spots Kelly did moments before.

I'm sure I look a mess.

"Better than you," I settle on answering, taking in Sara's own battered features. Namely the crimson trail still trickling its way down her pale skin.

Not to mention the way she's favoring her side.

"Did he…" I can barely stomach saying the words aloud. "Your ribs…did he…"

"They're just sore," she tells me. "He didn't do them any more harm."

"And you know this how?"

"I just know."

"Sara."

"Trust me?" Sara's eyes are earnest, looking at me with unspoken emotion. "Please?"

"Let me see?"

Sara considers the compromise.

Then, slowly, she lifts her shirt.

Hearing a gasp beside me, I almost forgot Kelly was still here with us.

"My God, what the hell happened to you, Sara?"

Sara doesn't answer, eyes leaving mine to focus elsewhere as seems to be her pattern.

"Long story," I tell my friend. "Been a rough couple weeks."

"Seems so," she breathes out, eyes trying to stop looking at the evidence of violence displayed across Sara's torso.

As I feel around her side, Sara curses, teeth clenching tightly.

"Sorry," I tell her. "I'm promise I'm not trying to hurt you, honey."

Sara gives a small nod, working to keep her composure as I probe a few other places that look particularly battered.

"I don't feel any breaks," I state, "but I can't say that that makes me feel much better. Nor does that gash near your brow."

Sara reaches up, absently touching the slowly bleeding wound.

"It's just a cut," she waives off my concern. "He tried to hit me with the edge of the car door as he got out. Mostly missed."

"Here," Kelly offers, handing Sara back the towel that was tossed aside before, her own expression looking like she doesn't quite like the amount of blood Sara's lost either.

"Thanks."

Keeping pressure on her head, Sara's eyes keep focusing on my own injuries.

"You sure you're alright?" she asks. "He hit your head into the siding pretty hard."

"If I agree to trust your assessment of your state of wellbeing," I tell her with a small smile. "You're going to have to trust mine."

Sara looks less than pleased, her expression looking close to arguing.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" I smile. "And I'm not the one with a history of blatantly lying to you about being 'fine' while I nearly bleed to death in the middle of the fucking desert."

Sara snorts slightly, lowering her eyes.

"Touche."

Kelly moves forward, placing herself near us.

"What do we do about this?" she questions. "About him."

Her eyes are dark, angry. It's something that I've only truly seen a handful of times from my otherwise gentle and good natured friend.

"He can't keep doing this to you, Cath."

"I know," I breathe out, running my hand through my tangled hair. "But anything I say he'll just refute. He'll bring up other shit from our past and just make things ten times worse."

"You have witnesses," Kelly counters, gesturing to herself and Sara. "We'll back you up."

"Did you actually see anything?" I question Kelly, watching as she grows quiet. "And Sara's a coworker, one who I just investigated for negligent homicide in a legal case filled with baffling amounts of drama and secrecy. Any lawyer would have a field day spinning those angles to make one or both of us look corrupt, coerced, or blackmailed."

I look over at my quiet companion.

"No offense."

"None taken," Sara shrugs.

Straightening up, Sara holds her side as she looks at me.

"I may have a solution to the witness problem, though," she says quietly.

When she doesn't elaborate, I step closer. Reaching in, I place her hand with the towel back tightly to her temple, not liking the stubborn trail of blood that keeps making its way down her face.

"What is your solution?"

Taking a breath and watching my reaction, Sara reaches into her pocket with her free hand, pulling out her cellphone.

"Are…did you…"

Sara nods, "I recorded everything. Turned it on right before I approached his car." Her eyes search mine, trying to gauge my feelings. "Suspected it might come in handy."

Her finger hovering over the screen, she presses stop, showing me the recorded file across the phone's display.

"I…" my head shakes, trying to take in this revelation.

She looks back down to her phone, breaking her gaze. Pressing a few things on the screen, she clears her throat.

"I just emailed you a copy of the file," she says quietly. "It's yours for whatever you decide to do with it."

Looking up, her eyes meet mine, and, just for a moment, it feels like I can see beneath some of her walls.

"Thank you, Sara."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks as always for your support and kindness. Two things I wanted to address before the chapter: **

**One is the review from batjann1 regarding fears of the story not being completed. I promise that I will not leave a story unfinished baring any sort of unforeseen disaster. Even if there was going to be a long delay in updates for some reason – I would let you know that. I would never simply end a story without a conclusion and walk away from it – that's not fair to you all as readers. So, if this story suddenly stops getting updated – it's pretty much only because I've died, I've lost my computer and access to all other computers on planet Earth, I've been abducted from planet Earth, I've come down with amnesia and forgot I was in the middle of a story, or some other unlikely event. No worries. We are on this journey together until its conclusion. I promise.**

**The second thing - a huge congratulations to my US readers on the Supreme Court ruling on Friday. I know for me personally it has been a whirlwind of emotions. I can only hope that there comes a day when minority groups don't need things like this to go all the way to the courts for justice to be granted. It took us way too long for marriage equality, but I'm so glad we finally got there. Love is love.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 17

_"You cannot run away from weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand?"_

_-Robert Louis Stevenson_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Morning."

Sara slides into the seat adjacent from me, grabbing the coffee cup in front of me and replacing it with a different one.

"There may or may not be secret stashes of real, genuine coffee around here. This cup in front of you may or may not hold one of those secret blends, a French roast imported from a free trade grower."

My brow raises, eying the new cup with interest and pushing my old one even further away.

"You had me at real, genuine coffee."

We enjoy our beverages in silence, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive for assignments. And, my God, this coffee is good. Exactly what I needed.

"How are you?" Sara tentatively asks, eyes still on her own coffee.

"Headache that rivals a jackhammer," I answer honestly. "But other than that I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes," I tell her sincerely, touched by her concern. "You don't have to worry about me, Sara."

She looks up, her eyes saying all her unspoken words for her. How worried she _is _about me, namely because of the situation that reached new heights last night. She knows now better than anyone just what Eddie is capable of. How close he is to me and my daughter.

"Anyway, I should be the one asking you that question," I somewhat change the topic.

Sara's hair hides a lot of the gash along her temple, but there is still a decent potion of it that extends beyond her dark locks. It's an angry red, the skin around it looking raw and painful.

As she looks up, the discoloration near her eye only makes her gaze all that more intense – the brown and green hues in her eyes that much brighter.

"I'm fine."

"Do you own a mirror?"

"Yes."

"Do you look in it?"

"There are particular days I avoid doing that," Sara mutters, eyes moving back to her coffee. "This was one of them."

I smile, "Wise choice."

Though, aside from the gash along her temple, the younger CSI looks just as put together as she always does. You'd never know the things going on below the surface. She's a master at illusions, and I'm not really sure if that's a good thing.

In fact, I suspect it isn't.

As the boys start to filter in, Sara and I both lean back, separating ourselves once again, replacing the distance ever present between us.

* * *

"Thanks for covering for me today."

Sara tosses her CSI vest in her locker, grabbing her keys from the shelf.

"Sure," she offers. "Though I'm a little disturbed at how quickly people believe that I would run into a tree while running."

I laugh, "Does imply they think a certain level of clumsiness is in the realm of Sara Sidle possibilities."

"Apparently," Sara grumbles.

"Hey," she calls me back as I make my way to the door to head home. It's been a long shift working our case, and we're slowly making progress regarding our victims from the shed and what brought them to such a tragic and violent end.

"I know it's none of my business," she prefaces, looking uncomfortable. "But I was just wondering if you've decided what to do about Eddie and the recording."

I pause, knowing this particular conversation was coming. I want to tell her that she's right, that it's none of her business. But, that wouldn't be fair to her. Not when she's currently sporting a nasty injury she got from Eddie. Got from Eddie while protecting me.

Whether she wanted to be or not, Sara is now involved in this. To act as if she weren't would be disrespectful to her and the two times already that she's put her own safety on the line for me.

But, I know that she's not going to like what I'm going to tell her – and I was honestly hoping to put this particular conversation off for as long as possible. Sara and I have a tenuous relationship at the best of times. Breaking the shallow balance we have right now is the last thing I want.

But, I need to be honest.

"I'm going to delete it."

Sara watches me, eyes widening slightly before they narrow, like she's trying to figure out if she heard me correctly.

"I'm sorry?" she questions.

"I need to handle this situation with Eddie carefully, Sara. Jumping to using that recording against him and pressing charges, whatever you were hoping I would do with it, is not in my best interest right now."

"Your best interest?" Sara gets out, voice sounding like she's having trouble forming words to express her level of confusion. "What about Lindsey's best interest."

"Don't start down that road again," I warn her. "Don't bring my daughter into this."

"Or what?" Sara questions darkly. "You're going to hit me again? Apparently there's nothing wrong with hitting other people, right?"

"Don't you dare."

"This is bullshit," Sara gets out, shaking her head, hands now clenching into fists. "You're going to let him keep hurting you, keep threatening you and your daughter?"

She looks at me incredulously.

"How many victims have you processed who tried to do exactly the same thing?"

"This is different."

"How?" Sara poses, eyebrows raised. "How the hell is this different?"

"There's a lot to this situation that you don't understand," I tell her seriously. "A lot of history that Eddie and I have that makes this much more complicated."

"You used to work for him, most likely in a club as a dancer or stripper," she says without hesitation, losing none of her momentum. "There were drugs involved, likely cocaine based on the time…"

"Stop."

"Getting too close?" Sara asks.

I know Eddie had spewed references to my drug use and made other allusions to my past during his encounters with Sara. But, I'd hoped those particular statements hadn't been registered by the brunette.

Someone as perceptive as Sidle – I should have known better.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you have a past," Sara says quietly. "One that holds some colorful secrets. But that's the past, Miss Willows. You can't let that dictate what you do about this situation now. It was wrong what he did to you then, and it's still wrong now. You have to do what's best for you and your daughter."

"I'm doing just that," I warn her, taking a step into her personal space. "I appreciate what you've done for me, I really do. But you don't know Eddie like I do. This decision concerns me and my family."

I place my finger into her chest, gentle but firm.

"And that doesn't involve you."

Sara tightens her jaw, biting back I'm sure a thousand expletives she wants to share.

I make sure her eyes are on mine.

"Am I clear, Sidle?"

Gaze dark, Sara's eyes burn into mine.

"Perfectly."

* * *

"What the hell did you do?!"

Kelly looks uncomfortable, having arrived at the lab early to meet me for lunch. But, on my way out with her, I got a very disturbing phone call.

One that stopped me dead in my tracks. One that can't wait until the end of my lunch with Kelly.

Having spent this morning with the brunette, I thought our altercation from the locker room last night was over. She greeted me this morning at the start of shift just like she always does, both of us exchanging pleasantries before getting to work on our case. She never gave one hint, one single indication as to what was going on in the background.

Easily finding the brunette in the breakroom near the coffeemaker, I grab Sara by the front of her shirt, all but dragging her into one of the back labs.

"Get your hands off me," Sara growls out, pushing away from me.

Shoving her back into the room, I slam the door behind us.

"Uh, Cath," Kelly hedges. "I can wait outside for you…"

"No," I tell her, keeping my glare on Sara. "I need a witness to this – and someone to keep me from killing Sidle."

"What d-"

"Shut up," I interrupt Sara, advancing on her so quickly that her back smacks into the glass cabinet behind her in her efforts to keep space between us, the bottles of chemicals shaking on their shelves.

"I told you explicitly last night before I left that the recording was going to be deleted. That I was going to handle the situation with _my _family how I deemed fit."

I clench my fist into Sara's chest, keeping her in place.

"Was I in any way unclear during that conversation?"

Sara doesn't comment, eyes as dark as her expression.

"Answer me, damn it!"

"Cath…"

I ignore Kelly, all the anger in me running through my veins and drowning out everything else.

"Was I unclear, Sidle?!"

"No."

"Then what the hell do you think you're doing going to Jim Brass?!"

"You had the right to do whatever you wanted with your copy of the recording," Sara tells me tightly. "And I had the right to do whatever I wanted with mine."

"You had _no _right," I all but yell in her face. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

"I did what you should have done."

"That was _not your decision to make!_" I push her back harshly into the cabinet, the glass doors rattling in their frames.

Sara's eyes flash with anger, her arm reaching out to try to pry mine away from the death grip I have on her collar.

"Don't touch me," she growls, tone low and threatening.

"If you can do whatever you damn please despite my requests," I retort, "then so can I."

"I'm doing what needs to be done to keep you and Lindsey safe," she says tightly. "You can hate me all you want, but I would do it a thousand times over if given the choice. You don't understand the risk the two of you are in if you keep that madman in your life."

"You don't know what's best for my daughter and I!" I tell her sternly. "Don't act like you're some sort of expert on the topic of domestic abuse."

Sara's motions pause, her eyes flashing to mine. I can see her features pale, and I know I have a choice to make.

I'm sick of Sara acting like she knows what she's talking about when it comes to Eddie's and my relationship. This doesn't concern her - this is between me and my family.

Perhaps if it were another day. If Sara didn't just betray me in the biggest way possible, I would have made a different decision. But, I feel the words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

"Just because someone beat the shit out of you when you were a kid doesn't make you an expert on abuse, Sidle. Back the fuck off."

Sara's body goes deathly still, her motions completely frozen. Her eyes barely blink, even her breathing stops.

It's in that silence, that complete break in the angry exchange between us, that the words I've just said to her finally register in my brain.

Oh God.

"How…"

Sara swallows, looking like she's about to be sick.

"How did you…"

Her eyes leave mine, her body pressing itself into the glass behind her, trying to put as much distance between us as physically possible. Her hand leaves my arm as if the mere touch of me burns her.

"In the hospital…" she breathes out, already working through to the solution on her own. "When you reviewed my chart to see if I could return to duty. Damn it, the x-ray reports..."

Sara's head hits soundly back into the cabinet in frustration, her eyes looking as far away from me as possible.

"Sara…"

Sara shakes her head darkly, her furious emotions evident in the trembling of her body making me stop my apology hesitantly.

"Don't bother," Sara gets out.

Then, with more force that I thought possible, Sara pushes me away from her, finally succeeding in freeing herself.

Hand clenching to her side, she backs away towards the door.

"We're done."

Her head turned away like she can't stand to even look at me, her gaze burns into the table alongside us.

"You can do whatever you want with the protection Brass offers you, the charges he works out to get Eddie out of your and Lindsey's life. You can accept them or not. You can do whatever the hell you want from here on out."

She tries to keep her voice steady from the anger that is making her free hand shake where it is clenched tightly beside her.

"I'm done," she states tightly. "With this. With you. With all of it."

Opening the door, she finally raises her dark gaze to mine.

"I'm fucking done."

* * *

**AN: Yikes. Thanks for reading.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Continued gratitude to the readers of this story, and those who take the time out of their day to review. Love hearing from you guys. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 18

_"To regret deeply is to live afresh."_

_-Henry David Thoreau_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

My frantic pacing continues, only interrupted when I toss the various pens and other items topping the layout table across the room, each one skittering along its own path until it rests along the cold tile floor.

"Catherine."

"Fuck!"

Head in my hands, I sink down onto a nearby stool, trying to keep myself from literally crawling out of my skin.

"Cath…hon…"

Looking up, my eyes, brimming with moisture, meet my longtime friend's.

"Kelly…God, what did I do…"

Kelly lets out a tense sigh, coming to stand next to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"How could I have said that to her?"

"You were upset…"

I shake my head vigorously. "That's not an excuse. Not for something like that."

"No," Kelly agrees. "It's not."

"God," I groan. "I'm losing my mind. All this shit with Eddie, with the case, with trying to make things work here in Vegas."

I lower my head, "I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore."

"Hey," Kelly soothes softly, hand rubbing along my back in gentle strokes. "You're trying to do the best you can for you and your daughter, Cath."

Kelly tries to get me to meet her eyes.

"You're only one person, though, Catherine. You can't keep trying to do things on your own."

"I'm not," I counter. "You've helped me more than I can stand to think. I never would have made it this far without you."

"But this stuff with Eddie," Kelly counters. "I can't help you with that, not the way you need. Having Lindsey stay at my place is only a temporary fix and you know that as well as I do."

I feel Kelly grow slightly hesitant as she plans her next words carefully.

"This deal for protection that Sara worked out with…Brass, was it? It sounded like a pretty good idea."

"It means filing formal charges against Eddie."

Kelly nods.

"Which he more than deserves. In fact, it's something he deserved years ago when the two of you were together."

Kelly was never a fan of Eddie, and it's not hard to imagine why. All she saw was a man who endangered her friend, physically and emotionally. Kelly never really understood what I saw in him, and I'm sure she still harbors that same point of confusion.

"It's not just that," I tell Kelly. "It means Eddie can bring up anything he wants from my past. The cocaine, the exotic dancing, the past that I've worked so hard to put behind me."

"He can say whatever the hell he wants," Kelly stays firm. "Doesn't change the amazing person that you are. Your past is just your past."

Looking down, Kelly meets my eyes squarely.

"You need to do what you need to do to keep you and your beautiful little girl safe. Everything else is irrelevant."

I know she's right. Hell, I knew charging Eddie was the right thing to do the moment Sara forwarded me that file. It's working up the courage to pull the trigger on it that's the problem.

But, it appears Sara read through my hesitation and took that burden from me.

And, in return, I bully her, physically push her around for the second time in our short relationship, and basically spit the most hateful thing I could have said right in her face. All while she was simply trying to help me and Lindsey. I lash out when I'm vulnerable, that's for damn sure. But, this was extreme, even for me. I may be an emotional wreck right now, but that's no excuse to be taking it out on the one person who deserved it least of all.

"God, I need to apologize to Sara."

Kelly breaths out a long breath, "That's an understatement."

Giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze, Kelly moves to stand across from me. She goes quiet, and I can tell she's deep in thought.

"What you said…about her as a kid," Kelly eventually says quietly, voice somber. "Was it true?"

"Yes," I whisper, my heart and stomach sinking all over again when I think of the damage I've done. "Unfortunately."

"Shit."

"Yeah," I breathe out. "They made note of old injuries identified on her x-rays. Former breaks of multiple bones, some that were set properly, some that were left unfixed. Many were years old."

"Jesus," Kelly curses. "Do you know who or how?"

"No," I shake my head. "Sara's background information in her CSI file is very sparse. Almost purposefully so. Judging by the age of the fractures, she was young when it happened, just a child, and then lasted from what I can tell until her teens."

"Her parents?"

I shake my head, "I don't know. She never talks about family. And her personal information was no help. I have no idea who her parents were, if they're even living."

"Fuck." Kelly shakes her head angrily. "I'm really sorry to find that out about her. Not that I ever want it to happen to anyone, that goes without saying, but Sara seems so kind. A bit quiet and intense, yes, but you can tell that underneath it all she has a really good heart."

"She does," I agree, thinking back to our interactions.

They were often tense, heated. But, Sara's quest in all of them was always justice, integrity. Protection for me and my daughter. Simply doing what was right, no matter the cost.

"Damn it," I get out again, thinking of the woman I managed to hurt in perhaps the deepest of ways. "I need to make this right."

Kelly's expression says it all when she looks at me, echoing my own fears.

There may not be a way to make something like this right.

* * *

"Jim," I hesitantly knock on the open door. "Do you have a minute?"

Looking up, Brass politely gestures me in. "Catherine, good to see you. Come on in and close the door."

Doing as requested, I place myself in the chair across his large desk.

"I spoke with Sara."

He nods, "I'm really glad she came to me with this," he tells me pointedly, his unspoken statement loud to read.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to you personally," I address his innuendo. "I'm still new here and I didn't want to already be bringing my personal drama into the work place. I honestly thought I could handle this on my own."

"From what I can see," Brass tells me supportively, "it's only your ex that needs to be apologizing."

"Thanks," I get out, trying to keep the emotions from my voice.

"Look," Brass clears his throat, getting to the business at hand. "From the recording Sara shared, you have grounds for multiple charges. Threatening a minor, child endangerment, assault on an officer. I can go on. You also have everything you need to file for sole custody of Lindsey if you haven't previously."

I breathe out, having wanted to establish sole custody from the moment she was born. But, without evidence like this to Eddie's true nature, I never felt like I had the grounds for doing so.

Now, thanks to Sara, I finally do.

"I'd like that. I'd like that very, very much."

Brass nods. "Catherine, Sara also shared with me a little bit about there being other circumstances regarding your past with Eddie that you would like to remain private. Is that correct?"

I nod, surprised at Sara's thoughtfulness regarding my personal concerns.

"Yes."

"I can keep this discrete," he promises. "Sara and I brainstormed for a long time last night regarding ways to file and not have those things tied back to you. Keep the records sealed and the court hearings closed. She was clear that we would only proceed if it was of no risk to you. I think we came up with some pretty good ideas."

I close my eyes, wishing to hell I could numb the feelings pouring through me, the deepness to which they reach inside of me.

"You alright?" he questions gently.

"I just…" I open my eyes, meeting his gaze squarely. "I can't thank you enough Jim. I never expected anyone to be willing to do this for me, to go to these lengths. Especially when you guys barely know me."

"Thank Sidle," Jim laughs, oblivious to Sara and my earlier interactions just moments before. "Sara seems to think you and that little girl of yours are something special. And, I may not have known you long, but you've given me no reason to disagree."

I nod, trying to keep the tears from brimming over my eyes.

"How long could Eddie get for this?"

"For the things I listed from the recording?" Jim asks. "Couple years maybe. Assault on an officer is the biggest of the charges in terms of jail time. And Sara's willing to comply with filing a formal charge for those if you give permission. She's already let Sofia document her injuries from the altercation and written a formal statement. Everything is ready to go as soon as you say the word."

"God," I breathe out. "She just went through shit in court, and she's willing to go through all that legal nightmare again."

"You'll learn very quickly that when Sara considers doing things, the impact to herself is often the part she thinks about last, if at all," Brass says quietly, the respect and adoration he has for the young brunette clear to read in his gentle expression. "Much to my frustration."

I smile, heart sinking further as I can't imagine ever being able to make things with Sara right again. All this, she did all of this for me, with my best interest at heart, listening to my concerns regarding my past and finding ways around it. She did it for me. And what did I do for her? Bullied her and threw perhaps the darkest moments of her life right in her face.

"For what it's worth," Brass states sincerely. "From what I heard on that recording, you're doing the right thing. You and your daughter shouldn't have to live in fear of that jerk. No offense."

I smile through my emotions, for the first time staring to feel like Eddie is not going to always be a phantom haunting everything good in my life.

Now, if only I can stop doing my own damage to those around me.

"Do it. Arrest Eddie."

* * *

"Sara, please open this door."

Silence.

Knocking again, I rest my head against the solid wood.

"Sara. I need to talk to you."

I know I have no right to be asking anything of the brunette right now. Or ever really, after what I've done. But, I want nothing more than to apologize to her. It's such an inadequate gesture, but it's where I need to start.

But, it requires Sara to open her door.

Which she has not done for the last twenty three minutes of my knocking.

Knowing I'm walking a fine line of pissing of her neighbors, I try her cell one last time, my ear to the door to see if I can hear it ringing inside.

Hearing nothing but the same silence I've heard since arriving, I finally give up.

She may not even be home.

I know she's due in at shift tomorrow, but I was really hoping to catch her before then. I don't want another minute to go by without addressing my majorly inappropriate and regretful actions earlier. Actions that keep playing through my head, threatening to make me sick.

Sighing, I give one last defeated bang into her solid door, making my way dejectedly back to my car.

* * *

"And the DNA?"

"Match by default," Sara answers, pushing a piece of paper to our side of the table. "Fifty percent genetic overlap with our couple."

"Their son?" Grissom looks up in amazement, eyes alight at this new lead revealed by Sara at our morning briefing.

"Apparently he filed for emancipation as a minor, which is why he wasn't showing up. But, yes . Caleb Linton. He's our guy."

"DNA on the chainsaw."

"Only found it when I took them all apart," Sara nods. "Bastard wiped everything down, but forgot the underside of the chain on the very last one."

Grissom lets out a breath. "This is very good work, Sara. Let's bring him in."

"Brass is out with an APB right now," Sara nods. "As soon as they track him down he's ours for questioning."

"Great work."

Nodding to us in approval, Grissom gathers his things, heading off to complete his other tasks for the day.

"Hey," I call, stopping Sara's retreating form just as she makes it to the doorway. "Can I talk to you?"

Sara's body tenses, her head lowered before she turns towards me. Though she's facing me, she can't bring her gaze near mine.

"I can't do this right now," she tells me, voice low, exhausted.

As soon as I saw her this morning, it was clear where Sara was all night when I tried to find her at her place. She was here, hidden away in some remote lab apparently tearing apart every single tool that was in that shed.

She looks exhausted, features pale, hands trebling slightly from the likely multiple cups of coffee she's downed to try to keep herself awake. Add in the deep gash still marring her temple, and the young CSI looks physically and emotionally beaten down.

"Sara, please, I need-"

"_I_ _need_ to not do this now," Sara cuts me off, dark eyes fixing on the floor in front of her. "I'm sorry."

She's gone, leaving me standing alone in the breakroom, only the purring appliances breaking into the silence.

* * *

"It's been a week."

"And still nothing?"

"Nothing."

"She just needs time."

"It's Sara," I counter to my friend, leaning back in my chair as we watch Lindsey play in the front yard. "She'll never voluntarily talk about this. About anything, really."

"So what?" Kelly asks. "You just give up?"

"I don't know," I groan. "I want to try to make this right. She deserves an apology from me at the very least. But she won't even stay in the same room with me. Refuses to let me speak to her about anything other than our cases. Kel, she won't even look at me anymore."

"Yikes," Kelly breathes out.

As we watch Lindsey gathering leaves together, placing her stuffed bear carefully nearby, Kelly goes quiet.

"Maybe we need to try something else," her voice finally breaks the silence minutes later.

"Like?"

"Someone else."

"What?"

Kelly looks hesitant when she turns slightly towards me.

"Would you let me try to talk to her?"

"You?" I raise a brow.

"Yes, me. Your best friend who wants you to stop having to obsess over this every night for the rest of your life."

"And what do you plan to do exactly?"

Kelly shrugs. "Invite her to coffee or something. I don't know, I'll figure it out."

"And you think she'll go with you?" I question, having some serious doubts regarding this plan. Though Kelly is certifiably a genius, this plan seems to have more holes than substance.

"Sara's too polite to say no." Kelly thinks about this. "Or at least too polite to keep saying no after it becomes clear I won't stop asking."

I smile slightly, just imagining Kelly's persistent personality going head to head with Sara's stubborn one.

"You really think that's a good idea?" I question. "She probably already thinks I'm harassing her when I try to corner her every day in the lab. She'll be pissed if she thinks I sent my entourage after her as well."

"Your entourage?" Kelly laughs. "I prefer to think of myself as more of a sidekick, equal in my powers and capabilities."

"You know what I meant."

"Look," Kelly gets serious. "Either you keep trying your clearly failing plan of attack, you give up, or you let me give it a try. Those really are your only options at this point. And I know you better than to think you'd be satisfied with the first two."

"God I hate this," I groan, running my fingers through my hair.

Kelly lets me contemplate the very options she just listed to me, knowing I need to think this through. But, really, I think my mind has already been made up. Sara isn't going to waver when it comes to my attempts to get her to listen to me. For better or worse, Kelly probably is my only shot. It's a curveball that the brunette won't quite see coming. And, one I'm just as sure she won't quite know what to do with.

Which, when it comes to Sara, may be the only feasibly successful plan. Catch her off guard before she has a chance to block you out with her dozens of defensive walls.

"Good luck," I eventually tell Kelly, giving her the permission she needs to give this one last shot. "You're going to need it."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Thank you as always to those taking the time to review, means a lot. Sorry for the longer than usual time between updates - doing some renovation projects that have been taking up a bit more of my weekends than usual. Hope everyone is doing well.  
**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 19

_"Every man should keep a fair-sized cemetery in which to bury the faults of his friends."_

_Henry Ward Beecher_

* * *

KELLY POV

I feel awkward.

Like, really awkward.

I've only been to this lab once before, when I was meeting Catherine a little over a week ago for lunch. Seeing everyone bustling about with purpose, I try to blend in, focusing on the identical looking hallways to attempt to retrace Catherine's steps from that visit.

Noting another group of people passing me with badges that declare "VISITOR" in bold colors across their lapels, I curse under my breath.

Perhaps stopping at that desk with the uncomfortably friendly lady behind it wasn't so much a suggestion as it was a requirement.

Whoops.

Keeping my head down, I glance in each of the various rooms to the side of me, thinking I've picked the wrong hallway when a familiar profile finally catches my eye. Taking a deep breath, I don't know if I'm less or more nervous that I've succeeded in finding her.

Deciding there's no time like the present, I knock hesitantly on the doorframe.

Eyes jerking up, Sara glances at me before doing a double take.

"Kelly?"

Then, looking behind me, she sees the empty hall.

"I don't know where Catherine is," she says before I can speak. "Sorry."

"I'm not looking for Catherine."

Sara's brows furrow, her expression confused. Then, it grows a lot tenser.

Straightening up, Sara puts her pen down, her hands gripping the edge of the metal table she's standing behind.

"Look," I broach, stepping slightly further into the room to keep this private. "I wanted to speak with you. If you'd allow me."

"Speak with me about what?"

"Sara," I breathe out, getting straight to the point. "I want to talk with you about what happened the other day. But, I don't want to do that here."

Sara's jaw tightens, her lips pressed into a stern line.

"There's nothing to say."

"Maybe you have nothing to say," I tell the young woman before me, her intense gaze threatening my resolve. "But I do."

Sara looks fully on guard, her eyes dark.

"Is this you wanting to talk, Kelly, or Catherine?" she asks, also getting straight to the point. "Because I think I've been more than clear that I have nothing to say to her about this particular topic."

"I'm coming of my own volition," I tell her honestly. "I wanted to speak with you."

"Kelly," Sara shakes her head. "I'm not trying to be rude, but I really have nothing to say to you either."

"Perhaps I have some things to say to you."

Sara watches me closely, like she's searching for any sort of evidence as to what my particular angle is here. Why I'm here and why I'm speaking to her. Why I'm requesting to see her.

"One coffee, Sara," I say gently. "That's all I ask. One coffee and you can walk away after that and never have to speak to me again."

Watching me, Sara looks towards the door like she's still waiting for someone else to step through or some evidence that this is a trick.

Eyes moving back to me, Sara looks torn, like she's debating between telling me to fuck off and giving in so that she can get me out of here quicker. The brunette eventually sighs, cursing under her breath.

"One coffee," Sara says. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say, but that's it."

"Fine," I agree, taking the deal. "This morning?"

Sara glances towards the clock, noting that her shift is nearly half over already. "I get off at five."

"Six o'clock, coffee shop on Longfellow and Weston."

Sara looks anything but happy, but she nods, giving me her agreement to the terms.

"See you in a few hours."

I can feel Sara watching me as I walk to the doorway.

"Kelly," she calls me back. When I turn, her expression is stern. "Just you."

I get her hidden inference, the veiled reference to the person she is not interested in seeing.

I nod. "Promise."

Exiting, I try to mentally prepare myself for what is likely to be one of the most nerve wracking coffee plans I've ever made.

* * *

Sara, at my house, with her dark, intense gaze, was intimidating. Sara, placing herself mere feet across from me, with that same dark, intense gaze, in a secluded booth at 6am in a mostly empty coffee shop? Pretty damn stressful.

Especially when her expression is otherwise the epitome of unreadable.

"I took the liberty," I tell her, sliding the coffee I got for her across to her side of the table. "Cream and sugar are in the corner if you need them."

Sara watches the cup before finally taking it.

"Thanks," she says quietly.

"Look," I tell her, trying to keep my own expression open. "I don't want to keep you here any longer than needed. I know you've had a long day."

Sara glances down, eyes studying her coffee cup.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," I start. "For what I was witness to the other day."

"You didn't do anything," Sara responds evenly, voice as stoic as her expression.

"Maybe not," I agree. "But I was there, and I feel like I need to acknowledge it."

I try to get her to meet my eyes, but she avidly dodges my gaze.

"I may not know you, Sara Sidle. Our past encounters may be limited to one impromptu dinner at my house, but you are an important part of my best friend's life. Whether you want to be or not. And, that makes you an important part of mine by default."

I pick at the edge of the ceramic paint on my mug.

"When things in Catherine's life are strained, they're strained for all of us. Me. Lindsey."

Sara's eyes narrow.

"You're blaming me for bringing stress into your and Lindsey's life?"

I feel my eyes widening, "What?"

Shaking my head as I try to adjust to her complete misunderstanding of my comment, I lower my head to bring my gaze closer to hers.

"No," I state firmly. "That's not what I meant."

I breathe out. "What I was trying to lead up to is that when Catherine's life is strained we notice. Catherine notices. But, Catherine doesn't always have the best control over what it does to her, despite her being more than aware that it's happening. It's like she knows she's not being rational, but can't seem to step out of her emotions enough to stop it."

Trying to focus my words to conform into exactly what I want to convey, I eventually give up and just speak from the heart.

"What Catherine said to you was inexcusable, Sara. She should never have said what she did about your past."

Sara tenses, her body language revealing just how much she despises this particular topic.

"I want you to know that Catherine's aware of the level at which she's screwed up. She fell apart as soon as you left that room and hasn't been much better since then. She's tearing herself apart over this."

"What do you want from me?" Sara questions directly, her intense eyes finally meeting mine. "An apology for avoiding her? A promise to be nice to your friend so that she can forgive herself and we can all live happily ever after?"

Sara's jaw tightens as she pushes her back tensely into the booth.

"I'm sorry," she shakes her head. "But like I told her, I'm done with trying. Every time I do it just feels like a mistake."

Sara's gaze moves to the window.

"I think Catherine and I need to focus on being professional to one another at work. Not trying to keep forcing anything more than that. It's never worked for us yet."

"How hard have you tried?"

Looking over at my question, Sara's eyes narrow.

"How hard have you tried to get to know Catherine?" I question. "Or let her get to know you?"

I lean forward, keeping our gazes locked.

"Look, you know about Catherine's past, including about Eddie. That scares the shit out of her. Her past is something she's worked hard to overcome, and here one of her new coworkers, one she has the most tenuous relationship with, knows everything. Do you know how scary that is for her – wondering when it's all going to be made public again?"

"I wouldn't," Sara shakes her head tightly, angrily. "I would never do that. I _didn't _do that."

"I know," I agree. "And now so does she. But, in the heat of the moment Sara, when she _didn't _know that, all she saw was her and Lindsey's future falling apart. Her future being held in the hands of a woman she barely knows."

"People here wouldn't judge her like she thinks they would," Sara says defensively. "Even if it were ever to all come out. Which, Jim and I made more than sure wouldn't happen. If Catherine ever wants to share later on, that's her decision. It's her past and it's her right to share it with only the people she feels comfortable."

"You're probably the noblest person I've ever come across."

Sara's eyebrow raises in question at the seemingly random statement. She looks angry, distrustful, like she's still trying to figure out the trick to all of this, my secret motive.

"Catherine as well." I tell her. "She's not expecting someone like you when it comes to handling Eddie. She's used to all the other jerks and assholes who tried to 'help' her in the past. When in reality they only used the information to exploit her. She wasn't' expecting someone with a heart and a moral compass like yours."

I reach across the table, placing my hand across her forearm, holding it firmly when she starts to pull away.

"Catherine messed up, that's a given. But, she's not the person that you're expecting her to be, either. She's got your best interests at heart, Sara, I promise you. She misread you, mistrusted you when she shouldn't have. But, she wasn't trying to hurt you. She never was."

Sara swallows, head lowering as her arm remains tense under my touch.

"Even though she clearly did," I breathe out, seeing the underlying damage that Catherine has done written all over the young woman sitting before me.

Of course Catherine's statement hurt. It wasn't just Catherine's secrets being thrown around during their altercation. Sara's own secrets were thrown right in her face in the most harsh and insensitive of ways. But, instead of lashing back, Sara turned inward. She walked out of that room, walked out on Catherine.

Catherine reacts with fire. Sara reacts with ice.

"I'm not asking you to be her best friend," I tell Sara. "All I'm asking is that you don't assume that one very regretful comment represents the woman that I know Catherine to be. The kind, caring, warm, loving woman that I respect beyond words."

I squeeze Sara's arm.

"She messed up, big time. And I'm so sorry for how deeply she hurt you. But, please, don't completely write her off. Get to know her first. She's better than the person you saw that day."

I look at her dark profile.

"And, Sara, please let her get to know you as well. I think the two of you have more in common than you think."

"Why?" Sara bites back lowly. "Because we both have people in our lives who 'beat the shit out of us' as she so kindly publicized? We're automatically supposed to be best friends now?"

I watch the woman before me, the anger in her eyes. The defensive set to her shoulders as she draws them closer, like she's trying to raise just one more wall around her to keep the world out. One more to the hundreds it seems like she has around her already.

"Not at all," I tell her, hating to see how haunted and angry this wonderful person sitting in front of me is underneath it all. "All I'm asking is that you don't let that one heated statement define everything between you. Eliminate the progress the two of you had made."

Sara looks over at me, eyes dark, her body stiff under my touch. I can tell she's still resisting pulling away from me, from ending this entire conversation right here.

"Catherine…" she trails off, trying to figure out how to say what she wants to express. "Catherine's approach regarding relationships with people is different than mine."

Sara's voice lowers, her tone even smokier than usual.

"She keeps expecting a level of openness between us that I'm not ready for. Especially now that I know how she treats the limited information she does have about me."

Sara shakes her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Then tell her that, Sara," I respond. "It's okay if you aren't ready to be friends or forgive her, or whatever. But you need to tell her how you're feeling, you need to at least acknowledge what's happened so that you can move on from this anger you keep bottled up inside of you."

Sara leans back, finally successfully pulling her arm from my hold as she leans her head back into the booth with a long breath out between her teeth.

"And, she needs to at least have the chance to say what she needs to say, Sara, so that she can move on. You can do whatever you want with that conversation, but you both need to have it."

When the silence stretches on, I bolster my own emotions for the final thoughts I still have left on my mind.

"The last thing I wanted to say to you Sara, is thank you. Thank you for protecting her, for protecting Lindsey. I never got a chance to say that before this all happened."

I shake my head, trying to keep the moisture from my eyes.

"Everything going on in your own personal life, much of it involving Catherine in a less than positive way. And yet you protected her without hesitation, put your own life in jeopardy without a second thought."

I lean forward, "You're an amazing person and I'm glad you entered into Catherine's life. Whether or not you're glad she entered into yours."

Sara's eyes are on the table, her features conflicted.

"She's helped me as well," Sara says quietly. Gesturing vaguely towards her ribs, she swallows tightly. "She could have left me in the desert that night, but she didn't. I probably would have bled out if she hadn't been there and insisted on helping me."

Sara looks up towards me, still not quite meeting my eyes, but closer.

"I don't think Catherine is a bad person," Sara tells me. "I just think she's very different in how she handles things than I am. And, I'm not willing to keep putting up with her lashing out at me, physically or verbally, every time she feels threatened by something. I'm not a threat to her, I'm not going to hurt her, but until she believes that and stops immediately assuming the worst of me I need some space."

"Wait," I narrow my eyes. "You said 'keep putting up'…has this sort of thing happened before?"

Sara's eyes flicker up to mine before leaving, her mouth subconsciously tightening.

"She's been aggressive towards you before?" I ask in disbelief.

My companion remains silent, the brunette unwilling to expand on her slip.

But, she doesn't need to.

Inside, I cringe as Sara's point of view takes even firmer shape. Yes, Catherine's approach with Sara during their last encounter was vile. It was awful to watch and be witness to. That alone would be grounds for Sara to walk away permanently.

But, if you add in prior encounters that were similar, it becomes less of a convincing argument that it's a fluke, a bad moment. It becomes a pattern.

"What happened, Sara."

It's not a question, it's a demand.

Sara shakes her head. "That wasn't my point. I'm just saying that I respect your friendship with Catherine and the close relationship you two clearly have with one another, but the relationship I've had so far with Catherine has been a very different experience."

Sara tightens her hands along her coffee.

"And, like I said, it hasn't been all negative, I can tell that she cares. She probably saved my life when I got stabbed. But, I can't keep wondering which Catherine I'm going to get when I interact with her. I can't keep wondering how she'll misconstrue what I do or whether she'll keep reacting first and asking for clarification later."

I look her over, as if her body will reveal to me what Catherine had done. But, to be honest, with the way the brunette is favoring her side, angry discoloring around the gash by her eye, the pale and hallow features, it would be hard to pick out one altercation from another.

"Stop looking at me like that, Kelly. Our other interactions were not a big deal," she shakes her head. "She didn't hurt me."

"That's not the point."

"Look," Sara states. "I respect that your relationship with Catherine is different than mine. That your interactions with her are different than mine. But, to trust someone I need to feel like I know them. I don't know which version of Catherine is real, Kelly. Yours or mine."

Sara shakes her head, the heaviness of her words ringing through me.

"I'll talk to her if she still wants to talk, let her speak her peace," she says evenly. "I owe her that much. But I'm not ready for anything else beyond that."

I nod, trying to steady myself and my thoughts.

"I think that's fair."

And, I do.

Their relationship has been volatile from the start, thrust into each other's lives in the most stressful of times for each of them. Their actions have been unpredictable, and at least in Catherine's case, uncharacteristic.

They need time to sort themselves out, to feel like their feet are back on solid ground before they can fathom trying to build any sort of foundation with each other.

But, it's a shame that they didn't meet under other circumstances as perhaps things then would be different. I know the amazing and beautiful person my friend has always been to me, and I see the loyal and selfless person that Sara has revealed herself to be.

I think the two of them would make an amazing team here in Vegas, a team that could be based on respect, support, and loyalty. But, to get there, they need to be able to trust the person they are building that relationship with. And, that trust clearly just isn't there yet.

Reaching over, I startle Sara when I tilt her jaw up gently so that she meets my eyes. Once she finally matches my gaze, I remove my hand, keeping my eyes steady with hers.

"Thank you agreeing to meet." I tell her sincerely. "With me, and with her. It means a lot."

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"I heard you spoke with Kelly."

Sara doesn't look up, placing her vest on as she tightens the Velcro across her shoulders.

"She said you would be willing to speak with me if I would like."

Sara's hands secure her gun at her hip before she turns to face me fully, still remaining silent.

I watch her for a moment before I close my own locker.

"I would like that very much, Sara," I tell her. "If you're still willing."

Sara's hands move towards her hips, her fingers anxiously tugging at the threads from her vest.

"When and where?"

Taking this as agreement, I let out a breath.

"Kelly's place after shift? You know how to get there and this way she can watch Lindsey while we talk?"

Sara nods, "That's fine."

Looking down at her pager, she flips through the screen before she moves to the door.

"I have to go. I'll see you after shift."

She's gone before I can respond.

* * *

"You sure she's not bailing?" I anxiously tap my fingers along my pants, glancing at my watch as I do so.

"She's only twenty minutes late."

"Sara's early, to everything."

"Cath."

"I know," I breathe out tensely. "I need to be patient."

We wait for a while longer. I'm about to give up all hope when I hear a car pulling swiftly into the drive. The driver side opening, Sara steps out into the early morning light and quickly ascends the drive.

"Hey," she says, slightly hesitant when she sees both Kelly and I sitting out front waiting. Clearing her throat, she gestures towards her watch. "Sorry I'm late. I got stuck at a scene out in Mesa."

I look her over, the slight hunch to her shoulders, her hand running through tangled hair.

"You want to do this another time?" I question sincerely. "You look exhausted, Sara."

The brunette looks like she should be doing nothing right now except crawling into bed.

"It's fine."

Moving her tense gaze between us, Kelly stands, stepping forward to squeeze Sara's shoulder briefly.

"Good to see you, Sara." she tells Sara gently. "I'm going to head in to keep an eye on Linds."

We both watch her go, the environment becoming much tenser in her absence. Clearing my own throat, I gesture to Kelly's vacated chair. Hesitating a moment, Sara finally sits.

"Thanks for coming," I start. "I know it's not easy for you to be here."

Sara nods, eyes watching the early rays of light peaking over the mountains.

"I first and foremost want to apologize, Sara. What I said to you was beyond out of line. I am so sorry."

Sara doesn't immediately respond, her body tense as she remains completely still, only her fingers moving anxiously along the armrests of the chair.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," I tell her. "I just need you to know I'm sorry. It must have hurt you deeply, and you didn't deserve that."

I sigh, feeling like the words are horrifically inadequate.

"I'm so sorry, Sara."

Sara eventually nods, leaning forward in her chair to place her elbows along her knees, hands fiddling anxiously with one another.

"It happened," Sara eventually says quietly. "We move on."

"Sara," I shake my head, not wanting to let her short change this. "Please don't shut this out."

"What do you want me to say?" she questions.

"I don't want you to say anything. But, I want you to trust what I'm saying," I tell her honestly, not wanting her characteristic polite placation, her stoic dismissal as if what I said didn't bother her. "Whether or not you are able to forgive me someday, I want you to at least trust that I'm truly sorry for what I did."

Sara's head lowers, her hand coming up to rub her temples.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly.

Straightening up, Sara lets out a long breath.

"I'm trying to trust you. I'm trying to move past it," she says. "I really am."

"I don't expect you to pretend like it didn't happen or force yourself to forgive me or move on before you're ready, Sara. To be honest, I'm not sure something like I said can be forgiven."

I know better than to reach out and touch her, much as I would like to place my hand along her slumped shoulders.

"I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. I got caught in the moment, blinded by my frustrations and fear. You didn't deserve that, Sara."

Sara nods slightly, acknowledging that she heard me.

"And you didn't deserve me so carelessly referring to such a delicate topic, such a sensitive part of your past."

Sara stiffens, gaze moving even farther away from mine.

"I care about you Sara, and I care that those things happened to you when you were younger. I'm so sorry that it happened, and I'm so sorry that I used it in such a hateful and angry moment."

Sara turns slightly away, her gaze and her head now completely facing away from me. I hear her clear her throat, taking a shaky breath before she returns her gaze to the ground in front of her.

"That's not what we're here to discuss," she says quietly. "I'm not talking about that. Not now. Not ever."

It's clear that Sara means what she's saying, the heavy emotion underlying her dark tone.

Though I wish Sara wasn't so closed off to discussing anything personal, regardless of the magnitude, I knew something as big as this would be even more extremely off limits. And, as much as the brunette's private nature doesn't surprise me, I wish she felt comfortable to discuss things like this – with at least someone. Having seen her CSI file, I know now why the portions regarding her early information was so sparse. And, I worry that she had the information kept from her file specifically to keep it private, even from Gil.

I have no doubt that no one on this CSI team knows about these personal demons Sara's kept buried deep within herself.

"Okay," I whisper, respecting her request, but hoping that someday Sara can find it in herself to open up. To at least find one person to confide in and stop guarding herself so firmly against a world that she seems convinced is set against her.

Recentering myself and trying to tuck away my own emotions, I take a deep breath.

"So how do we proceed from here?" I ask.

Sara's pensive gaze is still on the ground, her shoulders brought up tightly around her.

"We move on," she says quietly. "We get back to working together like professionals."

While Sara and I have remained professional, even when we were at the worst of this situation, we've been too avoidant. Leaving rooms instead of discussing evidence just to get out of the presence of the other. Ending conversations earlier than needed, ending discussions that could potentially help move our cases forward.

We need to manage more than civility between us. We need productivity, cooperation.

"I agree," I tell her. "You're a hell of a CSI, Sara, and I enjoy working alongside you. You have my word that I will keep things work related between us. No more avoiding each other when we're on cases together, you don't have to worry about me bringing things up that aren't relevant to our work."

Sara's eyes down, she slowly nods.

"I look forward to moving on," Sara says quietly, diplomatically.

Then, standing, she runs her hands anxiously along her jeans.

"Sara," I call her back as she starts to head for her car, getting to my own feet.

Slowly approaching, I come to a stop before her.

"Eddie was officially booked this morning," I tell her quietly. "Formal charges are pending, but Brass said that everything went through with the DA. Because of protection for Lindsey, he's not even eligible for bail."

I breathe out.

"He's out of our lives, Sara. At least the next couple years, he's gone. I just wanted to let you know."

Looking into her averted hazel gaze, I hesitate before reaching out to gently take hold of her shoulder.

"I can never thank you enough, Sara. For what you did for me and my daughter."

Sara's jaw is tight, her eyes still away from mine.

Nodding, she takes a deep breath, allowing the rare physical contact.

Then, she steps back, my hand falling from her t-shirt.

Getting into her Jeep, she nods in my direction.

"See you tomorrow, Miss Willows."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.  
**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thank you for your continued kind and supportive words.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 20

_"We have it in our power to begin the world over again."_

_ Thomas Paine_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"What is it?"

Sara glances up, her dark eyes returning almost immediately to the table.

"Sara." I try again. "What is it?"

I can tell the brunette is bothered by something regarding this case. While I'm still a bit hesitant around her since our talk a couple days ago, I've been trying to hold up my end of the agreement. Topics remain work related, we don't let our private issues impact our cases, and we don't avoid one another simply because it's more comfortable.

So, when I walked into work this morning to find Sara pouring over the transcript from the interview with our suspect from the shed killings, I don't walk out this time.

Perhaps also trying to hold up her end, Sara shakes her head before reluctantly speaking.

"I swore that there were two suspects," she says quietly, reminding me of her words in the autopsy room when the victims were first posted by Doc Robbins. "But, I don't know, all the evidence matches back to the son."

I raise a brow, knowing how many times my preliminary calls on a case have been wrong. At least partially. Apparently, judging by Sidle's frustration right now, she's not wrong nearly as often. Or perhaps at all, I smile to myself, reminded of her ridiculous solve rate.

"What made you think there were multiple suspects?"

Sara looks up, perhaps reminding herself that we agreed to work cases together, to not avoid one another to the detriment of our work.

Leaning back in her chair, she shrugs. "The victims. The torture, then the mode of death. It's like there's two different signatures. One that's in it for the pain, the suffering, the power over the girls. Then the second that's quick, efficient, void of emotion."

"Two signatures…"

"Two killers," Sara breathes out the end of my statement.

"Maybe not always?" I suggest. "Maybe this guy gets off on the torture for a while and then when he's got his kicks wants it ended quickly?"

I cringe, hating putting myself in the mindset of a man as sick as our killer. Anyone who would do those types of things we witnessed in that shed and along those poor girls' bodies is not anyone I want my mind going anywhere near.

"I don't know," Sara gets out quietly. "I guess it doesn't really matter. The evidence says we caught our guy. So that's it."

I move closer to the table, knowing as well as anyone that as a CSI there are cases that just won't let you go. Ones that make you still feel, years later, like there is something that you missed. I hate it when those cases keep me up at night, and I'd hate for this case to turn into one of those that haunt the already burdened brunette.

"Sara," I say quietly. "You did great work on this case. We wouldn't have even caught this guy if you hadn't found that blood. We never knew that couple even had a son."

I reach over, closing the casefile gently and taking it from her hands.

"You got the guy," I tell her. "Now it's time to let it go."

Sara stiffens slightly, her hands gripping the table now that she no longer has the casefile to hold. Looking up, she notes her surroundings, perhaps for the first time realizing just how small this room is and just whom she's occupying it with.

"Of course," she states, her voice steady but completely void of emotion. I know she's placating me, giving me what I want to hear when the reality is that she's still going to obsess over this for weeks to come.

Standing, she pushes away from the table.

"I guess I should check with Grissom for assignments."

"No need," I tell her when she reaches the doorway, causing her to turn to look at me over her shoulder. "You're with me tonight."

Sara keeps her expression steady, nodding professionally.

"Where to?"

I smile. "Hope you brought your hiking shoes."

* * *

Sara is at home in nature. That much was evident every time I caught her out running in the desert. But, witnessing her making quick work of this mountain trail, I realize just how at peace she is out here. It's perhaps the most relaxed I've seen her in weeks, even though she's out here with me.

"How much longer?" I question, my own breathing ragged as I myself am less than pleased regarding the location of our scene.

Yes, I like nature just as much as the next person, but I don't necessarily like trudging through it for hours in the blazing heat of the morning sun.

Sara glances down at her phone, no doubt having a GPS app open.

"About 20 minutes."

I nod, taking a deep breath. 20 minutes. I can do 20 minutes.

Turns out, I only needed to do 15.

"What the hell were these people doing all the way out here?" I question, looking around the flat plateau nestled between sharp, angular mountains that holds the bodies of our victims.

Sara doesn't answer, never one to jump the gun when it comes to making conclusions about a scene. She wants data, evidence, before making any assumptions.

But, when she looks over our victims, nodding to the two officers standing guard nearby, Sara smiles slightly.

"Sidle?"

Sara looks over, "Take a look at their wrists."

I get closer, glancing over our two young male victims, eyes moving from their torn clothing to their wrists. Seeing light glistening off some sort of glitter or ink, I furrow my brows.

"What is that?"

At the raised brow Sara gives me, I shake my own head.

"What am I not getting that I should be?" I question warily.

Sara shrugs, "Nothing, I just assumed you would recognize evidence of a rave when you saw one."

"A rave?" I look around me, noting only sand and cacti gracing this plateau. "Here? You can't be serious."

Sara nods, smiling slightly. "Flat space between mountains, perfect place for a desert rave. Rock faces of the mountains provide excellent acoustics, location is remote enough to not attract attention no matter how rowdy it gets." She shrugs. "That and the entrance stamps on the wrist, designed to be seen under a black light..."

I raise my own brows. "Never imagined you to be the rave type, Sidle."

Sara shrugs, giving nothing away.

I just add it to the mile long list of Sara Sidle mysteries already in my head.

But, as we move to work the scene, both silently agreeing on different responsibilities, I wonder if perhaps Gil put us on this case together on purpose. He may be stunted when it comes to the emotions and events occurring around him, but he isn't blind. He has to have noticed the tension between Sara and I lately. And, I suspect this was his way of getting us out of the lab where we have no other distractions, no excuses for avoidance. Just us and miles of desolation.

And, I think perhaps he knew Sara enough to know that this scene would be one the outdoorsy brunette would like. Calming her and making her more open to the person he sent her there with. And, while her guard is still definitely up, she hasn't been quite as defensive or standoffish as she usually is around me.

I know she hasn't forgiven me for what I said or did. All I need to do is make eye contact wither to know that, to see the hurt and anger tucked just below the surface. But, she's kept her word of trying to move on from it. And, I appreciate that beyond words.

Working the scene for what has to be over two hours, we're only interrupted when David arrives, breathing heavily from the hike up, to remove the bodies.

"Oh, a rave," David smiles, nodding to us in greeting.

Sara can't quite hide the smirk on her face as she takes a few photos of the area around the bodies before they are lifted onto the gurneys.

"Look," I call, "we don't exactly have desert raves in Montana, alright? We're more of a…beer and bar…type of place."

Sara works hard to keep her expression neutral. "Of course."

Groaning, I wave to David as he heads off, knowing as well as Sara does that I spent significant time in Vegas prior to moving to Montana. After all, this is where I met Eddie, where I worked as an exotic dancer of all things. My life here wasn't exactly straight and narrow.

"Okay," I amend. "_I'm_ more of a beer and bar type of person."

Sara smiles slightly. "Never would have guessed."

Laughing, I shake my head. Perhaps Gil was right about sending us to this scene. Or, perhaps Sara and I are just too exhausted today to keep fighting with one another. Perhaps we both just need a break from the tension, the ever present distrust between us.

Whatever it is, I'll gladly take it while it lasts.

* * *

"You heading back in?" I ask, unloading the last of the evidence from the Tahoe and closing the back door.

Sara nods. "There's at least a few of the pieces of trace I want to get prepped and handed off for analysis before calling it a night."

"A few?" I question, giving her a look that lets her know I'm more than aware of the hours the brunette pulls.

"A few."

She watches me, not backing down, forcing me to either drop it or call her out.

"I'm not going to order you to go home," I tell her. "But I'm not happy about it either, Sara. You need rest."

While the brunette could have run circles around me today at our scene, the young woman clearly in amazing physical shape, it wasn't hard to miss the exhaustion that she was fighting through. Something tells me with all the events of recent, Sara hasn't exactly been getting many good night's sleep. Not to mention the brunette is still recovering from very serious physical injuries.

"Noted."

Sara's tone is even, not quite challenging, but not particularly warm either.

Our semi-standoff is interrupted when footsteps approach from the other side of the parking lot.

"Hey."

Hearing the greeting, Sara and I both turn.

"Hey, Kel." I greet with a smile of my own. "Just finishing up, be there in a second."

"Sure," Kelly says, giving me a gentle nod. Then turning to Sara, she raises her hand in greeting. "Hi, Sara. Good to see you."

Sara smiles slightly in return, "You too."

Looking back at me, the brunette picks up the remaining bag near her feet.

"I'm going to get this inside."

"Sara."

Turning, she looks at me with a guarded expression.

There's so much I want to say, things I want to express to her so that we don't end this good day on anything but a high note.

But, the words fail me.

Perhaps sensing my struggle, Kelly steps to my side.

"Cath and I are just heading to my place for a quick bite before she picks up Lindsey," Kelly says, voice trailing off slightly as even she seems to hesitate. But, my friend seems much better at pulling herself together than I was. The next words surprising even me. "You're welcome to join us, Sara."

Eyes shifting from mine to Kelly's, Sara seems caught off guard by the invitation, the brunette remaining stoic and tense.

"Thanks," Sara gets out. "But I should really get this stuff processed."

"Okay," Kelly says, sending Sara an understanding nod. "Hopefully another time."

Sara watches Kelly, an unreadable expression on her face. Then, the barest hint of a smile makes it to her mouth.

"I'd like that."

Eyes shifting to mine, Sara's stoic mask returns.

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

"So that was intense," Kelly says with wide eyes as we make our way back to the car.

"I think with Sara everything by default is a bit intense."

Kelly laughs, "I'm beginning to get that impression. She's quite…"

Shrugging, Kelly seems at a loss of words.

"I know."

"How are things between you?" Kelly asks sincerely. "Since you guys talked?"

"Better," I tell her honestly. "We've finally stopped avoiding each other for the most part. Both trying to move past it like we agreed to."

"But…"

I sigh, letting out a long breath. "But it's just so professional, so empty. There's still this wall between us. I know it's to be expected after everything, but I just wish…"

"You wish she trusted you."

I smile at my good friend, at the one person who can read me better than I can read myself.

"I wish she trusted me," I agree. "I wish she could let her guard down, just a little, around me. I wish she felt comfortable giving me more than just brief, tiny glimpses behind her walls."

"It takes time," Kelly reminds me gently, squeezing my hand. "And something tells me Sara Sidle requires more time than most. Perhaps directly related to her having more walls than most."

I completely agree, knowing Sara's probably the most guarded person I've ever met. But, perhaps it's because I've always been able to see through most other people's walls, that I feel so frustrated being completely blocked by hers. She gives absolutely nothing away. Everything you know about her, learn about her, it's all on her terms. She has complete control, all the time, of all of it.

And, she should. It's her right to control every aspect of her own life. But, it makes me feel somewhat defeated, knowing that the person holding the control is the person least likely to ever give it up.

"What about you," I ask, focusing my defeated thoughts elsewhere as I raise an inquisitive brow. "Inviting her to your place?"

Kelly shrugs, unlocking the car. "I think when you enter into adult life it's harder to meet genuine people. Especially in a place like Vegas. When you meet them, you want to hold onto them."

I nod, understanding her point. Though complicated, Sara's a good person, a really good person. I know that Kelly recognizes that as well as anyone.

"Plus, she's gorgeous, right?" I smile playfully, reminding Kelly of her initial assessment of Sara.

"Beyond gorgeous," she replies with a wink. "But that's just a bonus."

Laughing, I feel some of the day's tension leaving me, knowing an evening with my best friend is exactly what I needed.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: You guys have been so kind and patient with the last couple updates that have been taking longer than usual - so here's a quick update since I had the chapter finished early. Hope everyone is doing well. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 21

_"Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal...Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort."_

_Jean Cocteau_

* * *

SARA POV

Hand clinging to my gun tightly, I whip around, eyes squinting desperately against the heavy darkness. Desperate to see something, anything, to bring me out of this fucking forest filled with fog so thick it's nearly choking me.

"_Sara."_

Clasping my hands over my ears, the cold metal of the gun presses harshly against my cheek.

"Shut up!"

The voices don't listen, my name ringing over and over again through the cold, dark night.

"_Sara."_

"_Sara."_

"_Sara."_

Eyes clenched shut and fists pressed into my ears, I run. As hard and as fast as I can, not caring that the wet tree branches whip against every exposed portion of my skin.

"Leave me alone!"

My voice echoes back to me, changing, warping to something nearly demonic in tone.

"_You will never be alone."_

Sticks snapping beneath the soles of my racing feet, I push through the dense brush, suddenly stopping when the path clears. Opening my eyes, I blink, looking down to find I was steps away from pitching myself over the edge of the cliff.

"Fuck…"

I whirl around, breathing panicky as I try to make out anything in the dark, grey forest splayed out behind me. But, I should have instead prayed that it stay hidden.

Now, images slowly appear, making their way from the misty grey, light catching off skin, eyes.

Over two dozen faces stare back at me in silence.

"What do you want from me?!" I scream at them, watching as they only stare at me in silence.

Stepping back, my foot reaches the edge of the cliff, mere inches between me and oblivion.

"_You know what we want."_

Spinning back around, I nearly come out of my skin as I find this particular set of eyes nearly a breath away.

"Gabe…"

"_You know what we want." _

Gabe's words repeat themselves, his sad, mournful eyes burning into me.

"Gabe, I'm so sorry…I never meant for any of it to happen…"

I feel the moisture on my face as it freezes my skin, the icy wind licking up the tears before they can fall to the ground.

"I'm so sorry…"

Without even blinking, Gabe leans forward, cold, grey lips against my ear.

"_Burn in hell."_

His cold hand moves so quickly I have no time to adjust, the violent collision against my chest sending me pitching backwards. I'm forced to take a quick step back to keep myself upright, only there's nothing below my foot.

Having finally run out of room, my body falls backwards, my arms frantically swinging, but hitting only empty air.

Stomach lurching to my throat, I plummet off the cliff, wind whipping past me as I see all the faces now joining Gabe's as they watch me fall, growing more and more distant with each passing second.

Looking below me, I see the raging rivers of red, the remnants of even more faces scattered along the river, along the cliff-side, everywhere I can see. Hands reaching out from the walls, they try to claw at me in my descent.

Seeing my fate rapidly approaching, I remember the gun in my hand.

Without hesitation, I raise it to my head.

It's only a moment before I pull the trigger.

* * *

"Shit!" I curse, bolting upright, chest heaving as I gasp in one haggard breath after another, the sound of the gunshot still ringing in my ears.

"Fuck," I curse again, trying to steady my shaking hands as they draw themselves through my tangled hair, feet kicking at the bedsheets desperately.

As soon as I'm free, I stand, pacing along the cold floorboards until I feel my heart slow back down, clothes sticking to my sweating skin.

Every night. Every damn night it's the same thing. Well, pretty much. There's always victims from past cases, always their clawing hands and judgmental faces. There's always the forest, the cliff, the fall.

There's always Gabe.

"Damn it…" I curse into the still night, glancing at the clock to assess the likely bad news.

Sure enough, the glowing blue numbers show me that I've only managed forty minutes this time. It's nowhere near the amount my body needs, but it's going to have to do. Once the damn nightmare comes, there's no hope of falling back to sleep.

Feet padding quietly along my wooden flooring, I switch the light on in the bathroom, leaning over to turn on the shower. Removing my clothes, I barely check the water temperature before I step under the spray.

I need this dream off of me, the memories of those voices echoing in my ears, the feel of the cold, dead hands grabbing at me, the foggy wind that whipped through my hair. Gabe's angry hand as he pushed into my chest.

I can feel it. All of it.

Just like I have every single night since he died.

* * *

"Didn't know you smoked."

I don't have to look up to know who followed me out into this alley.

"Didn't know you did either."

There's a soft laugh as my companion leans herself against the wall next to me.

"Look at us," she smiles. "Getting to know one another."

I take a deep drag from my cigarette, unable to help the small smile that comes to my lips. Maybe it's the warm night air, maybe it's the truce that Catherine and I have successfully continued for now over a week and a half.

Maybe it's the countless shots of tequila I've had.

The last one's most likely, let's be realistic.

Regardless of what it is, I reach over, offering the blonde my lighter.

"Thanks."

When she hands it back, her fingers briefly touch mine. The electricity that pulses between us nearly makes me drop it. She seems to feel it, too, if the quick retraction of her hand is any indication.

"The guys seem like they're having a good time," Catherine says, clearing her throat, exhaling from her own cigarette into the night air.

"They do," I agree, smiling slightly as I recall the various drinking games the boys have been challenging each other to all night.

It's not often that we go out as a team, but Greg's birthday was just the excuse that we required to take a much needed break. The whole night shift is here, even Grissom, along with people's significant others, friends. It's been a great time for all of us to unwind.

And, for me in particular, it's been a great reason not to go back to my empty apartment filled with nightmares and voices of victims I couldn't give justice. Filled with the condemning eyes of the one victim that haunts me most of all.

The one whose death I can never erase from my conscience.

Cringing, I reach over with my free hand to grab the glass of some awful whiskey I grabbed from the bar. Downing its entire contents, I place it back along the brick wall that holds a dozen other discarded glasses and bottles from patrons who apparently had similar plans as my own.

"You alright?" Catherine questions, brow raised.

No doubt she's noticed my slightly aggressive drinking tonight. I can hold my liquor, yes, but I've had enough by now to definitely be feeling the effects. And, I think she knows that I'm private and reserved enough to not usually let myself get intoxicated in public. To not let it lower my guard. At least not when I'm surrounded by people I know.

But, tonight I'm desperate. I need to stop hearing and seeing everything that has kept me awake for the past month, the things that feel like they're creeping from my sleeping world into my waking world as well.

Tonight, I need to forget. All of it.

"I'm fine," I tell her.

Seeing her expression, I'm surprised to find the care and concern that colors the blue gaze. No judgement, no oncoming lectures. Just concern.

"Been a rough couple weeks," I expand as a compromise, reaching over to grab my glass out of habit before I remember I just finished it.

She likely can see that it's so much more than that, and so much longer than just a couple weeks. But, she doesn't push, simply reaching over to hand me her own drink.

Eying it, she watches me consider the option.

"You look like you need a night to let go," Catherine says quietly. "Something tells me you don't let yourself do that very often."

Moving closer, she presses the glass gently into my shoulder.

"Take it," she tells me sincerely. "Drowning the demons doesn't make them go away," she breathes out. "But, sometimes it makes them shut up. At least for a little while."

Smiling slightly, she looks at me with a warmth to her eyes that I've never seen.

"You can let go," she promises. "I'll make sure you get home safely, Sar."

The nickname slips off her tongue like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like she's known me all her life, like we're close. Not like she and I are just now able to function in the same room together.

Almost as if she can read my thoughts, she hesitates slightly, for the first time losing her ever present confidence as perhaps she realizes her slip. Just as she's about to pull her hand back, I gently take the offered glass, allowing my fingers to again graze hers.

I smile slightly, the electricity is still there.

Taking a few deep swallows, I cringe at the taste of the White Russian, wondering who in their right mind ever decided combining alcohol and dairy was wise.

Reaching to hand it back, she shakes her head.

"It's yours. You need it more than I do."

Watching her a moment more, I quickly finish the remainder. Swaying slightly, I place it next to mine on the wall.

Leaning back next to each other, we finish our cigarettes in silence, both content to simply enjoy the company without feeling the need to fill the night with conversation.

When she finishes her cigarette, she straightens back up, giving me a kind look before she gestures to the door.

"I should head back in. I promised Kelly I wouldn't leave her alone with Greg too long."

I smile, nodding as she makes her way to the door.

"Hey," I stop her just as her hand reaches the handle. "Thanks for the drink."

She smiles back with a nod, "You're welcome."

I watch her a moment, hesitating briefly.

"I'll see you later inside...Catherine."

Her eyes widen slightly before she can couch her expression. Then, a slow warmth seems to fill the deep blues of her gaze. Smile expanding, she nods, looking like some unspoken burden of her own has been lifted from her shoulders.

"See you inside," she agrees, sending me one last gentle smile before she disappears through the doorway.

* * *

Feeling my heart racing, I can't seem to pull my eyes from the heavy metal door Catherine stepped through nearly twenty minutes ago.

I'm drunk, but I'm not too drunk to realize the thoughts that had started to enter into my mind when she looked at me with that kind, understanding expression. Thoughts and emotions that whispered to me that perhaps _this_ is the real Catherine, the one that I've heard her to be. That maybe I'm indeed wrong about her. That maybe part of me knew I was wrong about her all along.

The problem with using alcohol to drown out the voices around you, is they can sometimes louden the ones already inside you.

While Catherine has made me feel so much anger, frustration, hurt, betrayal, there's this other set of feelings that has apparently wormed its way in when I wasn't paying attention. Feelings that suddenly appear when she looks at me like she can see me, the real me. When she sends me a knowing and caring smile, seeming to understand parts of me that I work hard to keep tucked away from the entire world.

I know Catherine has been frustrated that she can't seem to get a read on me, get to know me. But, she doesn't realize that she's been more successful than anyone has in a long time. Granted, she's still being held safely at the first group of my walls, but she's already peeked behind some of the deepest.

She knows about my past.

Well, parts of my past. But even that, it's more than anyone else on this team knows about me. Even Greg and Nick, whom I've always been relatively close with. They have no idea.

But, Catherine does.

When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing more of me than anyone has ever seen in a long time. And, it's scary as fuck.

I'm not ready to deal with those demons, let alone the ones that are already nearly consuming me. I'm not ready to try to figure out why, of all people, Catherine is the only one who seems to make me feel less alone when she's next to me. The only one who makes me feel like I want to run until I collapse and yet feel like I want to finally stop running all at the same time.

The only one who seems to make me _feel_ at all.

I push myself to a full stand, gripping the wall until I'm steady.

Catherine may have accessed more of me than most, but what's done is done. All I can do now is focus on not letting her reach any further, especially when I'm starting to believe that the kinder, warmer sides of Catherine aren't just a myth or ruse.

I was hesitant to let Catherine near me when I thought she was at her core manipulative and aggressive. I'm even more hesitant now that I'm starting to suspect she's not.

It's the people in life who have the power to save you that have the power to destroy you.

* * *

"Sara, hey."

Looking over towards the bar as I pass, I see Kelly stepping away from a man who looks more than a bit disappointed at the interruption.

"Hey," I greet, watching the guy give Kelly one last lust-filled look before moving on to another woman standing alone at the end of the bar. "Having a good time?"

Kelly smiles, "It's been fun," she replies honestly. "Nice meeting the rest of the team. I'm glad Catherine invited me."

I nod, watching her easy expression. I'm not too drunk to realize that she's also watching me.

While I haven't been blind to the confusing emotions between Catherine and I, I also haven't been blind to the strange connection between Kelly and I either.

Whereas Catherine is complication, Kelly is clarity. Of all the people in my life, this person who I've barely met is probably the most enjoyable to be around. She's honest, genuine. No hidden agendas or veiled motives.

Kelly is kind and sincere. Plain and simple.

"Buy you a drink?" Kelly interrupts my thoughts, her look hopeful.

"Oh," I hedge, not expecting the offer. "I guess, if you're sure..."

She smiles, "Stop questioning everyone who wants to do something nice for you."

"Wasn't aware you were everyone."

Kelly raises a brow, "True, but something tells me you aren't magically more receptive to others."

I look away, trying to remain neutral, but Kelly smiles gently as she squeezes my shoulder, seeing right through me.

"So, what're you drinking, Sara Sidle?"

* * *

I don't think I've had this long of a conversation with anyone in my life. At least not one that I enjoyed.

Tipping the glass back slightly, I swallow the tequila, having reached a perfect balance of buzzed enough to relax, but not too intoxicated to not be able to participate in this unexpected discussion with Kelly.

Turns out we have a lot more in common than I would have assumed possible. While our initial pleasantries were the usual questions about work and life, we somewhere along the line moved on to much more interesting topics.

Animals. Running. Astronomy. Music.

We must have been talking for nearly an hour by now, the laughter and voices of the bar, including those I recognize from my team, have grown louder as the alcohol has flowed deeper. The bar is now in full swing, people crowded around every available space.

As Kelly watches me, I'm reminded of Catherine. Of the blonde's own gaze that seemed to penetrate through me. Kelly's does the same, but with her there is no concern for ulterior motives, of revealing too much that could harm you personally or professionally.

While I have my own reservations about Kelly getting too close, it's ultimately mostly out of protection for her, not me.

Kelly is kind, open, caring all the way to her deepest core. She has no place near the darkness and anger than resides in my own hidden corners. I hesitate to let this beautiful person see that, feel that, witness that. If she knew who I really was inside, she wouldn't be here.

When she reaches across the table, however, and gently takes my hand, I can't help the searing pain that it sends through me. To be cared about, to be touched with kindness, it's almost too much.

"Hey," she calls gently, holding my hand tighter when I start to pull away. "Don't do that," she gets out quietly. "Don't hide yourself from me."

"I…" I try to focus, my brain filled with alcohol, dragging up feelings I haven't felt in a long time. "I don't think you want to do this, Kelly. You don't know what you're getting into."

She shakes her head, eyes piercing as they stay on mine. "I think I've proven myself to be a competent individual who can make her own decisions in life."

I feel a pull towards her, an opportunity for something deeper. Something I think we've been dancing around all evening.

I also feel an opportunity to escape, if just for a little bit.

I know I'm toeing a dangerous line, that I came here tonight to focus on my own self-destruction, not take anyone else along for the ride.

When I feel Kelly's steady finger running along my knuckles, I tip my drink back, finishing it quickly. I wish the burning in my throat went deeper, to all the cold, hateful places inside of me.

"Sara," Kelly calls gently, reaching out to softly turn my face back towards her. "Don't."

It's one word, but it's enough.

Taking my hand, she gently pulls me from the bar as the music and the crowds swirl around us. Silently, we move along the back wall, dodging patrons until we reach the one secluded place available.

Pushing into the private employee restroom, I try to bury the myriad of emotions burning through me as I hear Kelly slip the lock into place.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: I personally hate cliffhangers, so I try not to leave them for other people too long either if I can help it. Turns out you guys are in luck. Maybe. We'll see how you feel at the end of this chapter ;)**

**And, I have to laugh at the fact that all of the horrified Cath/Sara shippers immediately expressed their fearful concerns via public reviews. Meanwhile, the Kelly/Sara shippers (yes, there are more of you than you think) all elected to express their excited thoughts via private messages. No worries, I will not out you to the Cath/Sara shippers, your K/S allegiances are safe with me ;)**

**A huge thanks to everyone for your continued support of this story, really means a lot.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 22

_"Whoever blushes confesses guilt, true innocence never feels shame."_

_-Jean Jacques Rousseau_

* * *

KELLY POV

"Sara?" I call gently, still trying to bring her back from whatever made her go so completely quiet during the last moments of our conversation, her eyes dark and soulful. Like she's contemplating some deep puzzle of the universe, but traveling to places of darkness instead of light.

My voice is barely a whisper, wanting to bring her back to me, to stop the dark thoughts that are so clearly running through her. The sounds of the club fade, only the deep vibrations of the heavy bass reaching deep inside these walls.

Her gaze heavy, her eyes are fixed on mine. Then, she seems to break herself from the moment, shaking her head lightly as she starts to turn away.

"Sorry," she breathes out, her own voice nearly silent.

Reaching over, I carefully take hold of her jaw, stopping her retreat before it can start. When she meets my eyes, it starts to finally sink in where we are, why we're here, what we're doing.

"Sara," I breathe out. "We're drunk."

Sara nods, eyes hazy, but still so intensely focused. I need to know that she's sober enough to know where she is, who she's there with. I refuse to take advantage of this person that I care about, in any form or fashion. If she's too inebriated, there's no way I'm going any further.

"I know what I'm doing," Sara gets out, her own voice hoarse but strong. "I'm not too drunk to know exactly what I'm doing, if that's what you're questioning."

"You sure?"

Sara watches me, that damn hazel gaze making my own nearly falter.

"Are you, Kelly?" she questions sincerely, eyes searching mine as the room sways around me.

We're both very, very intoxicated. That is clear. But, like Sara, I know exactly what I'm doing. Or, more accurately, what I want to be doing.

It's only a moment more hesitation, and then my lips are on hers.

Instantly, a jolt runs through me at the contact, at the connection of our mouths, her lips tasting like cinnamon and whiskey.

My mouth hesitantly presses deeper against hers, my lips nearly trembling as they try to sense any motion in hers.

Then, just when I'm afraid I've overstepped, that I've horribly misread the situation, her mouth is kissing me back.

Hands finding their way into her dark hair, my grip is desperate, needy. I want to feel her, to know that this is real. The heat of our kiss burns through me, the sensations running straight through every atom that makes up my body.

It's just her, me, and this searing kiss. Her lips against mine, every sensation in my body feeling like it's on overload, the world around me fading away.

Gasping for breath, we pull apart, chests heaving as we try to fill our neglected lungs.

Watching her, I focus on her expression, her own eyes blinking open as they find mine.

"Kelly…"

I search her eyes for any signs of regret. There are none. But, there is hesitance, uncertainty.

"Kelly," she tries again, voice as shaky as her breathing. "What are we doing?"

I smile slightly, lips tingling as the memory of hers continues to pulse along their surface.

"I'm pretty sure that was called kissing."

Sara smiles slightly in response, the act lightening her dark features slightly.

Knowing what she meant, I watch her, my fingers absently finding themselves moving in nervous patterns along the hem of her dark shirt.

"Was I out of place?" I ask sincerely, respecting this woman much too dearly to ever want to overstep.

If she's not comfortable, if she doesn't return any of these feelings, we stop. I'm not one to pressure anyone into something they are not completely comfortable with. Particularly someone like Sara Sidle, who I suspect finds trust nearly impossible on a good day.

Her answer is not immediate, but when it comes it is definite.

Her mouth connects against mine, and this time the kiss is less hesitant and much more desperate. When my tongue moves along her bottom lip, she immediately grants me access. Her mouth now fighting to take over control, her teeth graze gently against my lip.

I never thought someone could taste this good, this right.

When I feel her hands finally leaving her side to place themselves along my back, my knees feel as though they are in danger of betraying me and dropping me unsteadily to the floor.

My own hand contentedly getting lost in her hair, my other finds its way towards her hip, fingers probing gently until they find their way underneath the soft material of her shirt. When they reach skin, Sara's body tenses, and I can tell she's struggling to maintain her sturdy stance.

Her hands are quickly leaving heated trails along my back, contacting more skin than not due to my choice in tops. I feel my own fingers searching the smooth definition of her flat stomach, tracing every angle and contour.

Her breath hitching under my touch, it's only moments before my hips are pressing themselves firmly against hers, pushing our bodies back until her shoulders collide firmly into the tiled wall behind her.

"Shit," she breathes out, eyes clenched shut as she leans her head back slightly, immediately hitting the wall that she's pinned against.

I mutter in agreement as my lips move towards her neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the sensitive skin.

I can feel her pulse racing beneath my mouth.

When I reach her collarbone, I bite down slightly, needing to feel her, taste her, my body desperate to connect to this woman who is still nearly a complete mystery to me.

Her response is immediate, her hips pressing against mine and increasing the pressure between our heated bodies. Her hands clench into the material along the back of my shirt, her own teeth gritted tightly shut as she forces a shaky breath through her nose.

Knowing I'm going to lose all semblance of control if I continue down this particular path, I move my mouth back up to place a gentle kiss near the back of her ear.

"You okay?" I ask her.

Pulling back so that I can see her eyes, I try to catch my breath, watching her struggling to do the same.

Nodding, she brings her hazel gaze to mine. So full of emotion, full of uncensored feeling that it makes my own heart thunder even louder in my chest.

"I'm okay," she gets out.

Shaking her head, she tries to form her thoughts into words. "I just…"

I smile slightly, my own expression matching hers.

"I know."

She nods, understanding that I'm just as affected by this moment as she is, maybe even more so. She can see that she isn't the only one battling against her thoughts, her feelings.

Running her hand upward to gently run her fingers across my cheek, she watches me silently, both our breathing finally slowing to something more closely resembling normal.

"We should get back," I pose quietly, my voice betraying just how much I don't want to do anything of the sort. How much I'd rather stay here. With her. Continuing what we were doing. "They're probably wondering where we are."

Something changes in Sara's expression as perhaps she's reminded of the people outside this room, the members of her team, her colleagues. Of the world waiting for us that is far less idyllic than this present one.

While what we were doing was amazing, taking every shred of my self-control to not push further, take this to the next step, I know this is far more complicated than that. This kiss was enough to send my head, my thoughts spinning. If I'm this off kilter from just a kiss, I need to get my bearings before even considering proceeding on to anything else. Sara isn't someone who I want to be a casual fuck, a drunken screw in a bar bathroom.

Sara deserves better than that.

If this is going anywhere, we need to figure that out. If it's not, we need to figure that out, too.

And, we need to do that sober.

I move a few steps backwards, giving her body room to free itself from its place against the wall.

"Sorry," I offer, noticing now just how hard I had her pinned against the solid surface.

"No apology necessary," Sara corrects. "Not for something like that."

Nodding, I reach over, gently placing my hand against her chest, searching her eyes one last time before I fully pull away.

"Kelly," Sara calls as I turn to lead the way back outside.

Turning back around to face her, she studies my expression.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she confesses quietly. "With a lot of things in my life right now. Work. Catherine." She looks at me closely. "This."

I nod, appreciating her honesty, her respect for me.

"That makes two of us," I confess.

I breathe out, lacing my fingers absently with hers as I squeeze her hand in mine.

"Look," I tell her. "I don't know what this was, or is. I don't know what I want it to be. Or don't want it to be." I shake my head. "All I know is that I've been wanting to do that for what feels like forever. And that it felt damn good."

Sara lets out a light smile at my words, her features seeming to relax as much as Sara Sidle ever relaxes.

"That makes two of us," she repeats my words back to me.

Then, her face drawing back to her usual stoicism, the brunette steels herself and follows me out of the room.

* * *

"Hey, where've you two been?" Catherine smiles, sending me a curious look as her eyes move between Sara and I as we make our way back into the main section of the bar.

"Oh, uh," I stall. "The bathroom."

"Right," Catherine says disbelievingly, eyes narrowing slightly as she watches Sara stare at the floor.

I try to subtly send her a look that states 'We'll talk later.' She nods with a raised brow, still eyeing Sara curiously.

Clearing my throat, I gesture to the drastically more inebriated crowd.

"You having fun?"

Catherine smiles, seeming more relaxed then I've seen her in a long time. "Yes, actually. Though," she looks around, "I was thinking of calling it a night before I lose all hope of waking up for work tomorrow."

Looking over, she gestures to our silent companion.

"And, I made a promise to a certain brunette that I'd make sure she got home safely."

Sara finally looks up, swallowing tightly as she meets Catherine's gaze.

"I'm okay," she tells her. "I can find a cab or catch a ride with someone."

"Nope," Catherine shakes her head. "A promise is a promise. If you're not ready to leave yet then I'll stick around until you are."

Looking around, eying the various people laughing, yelling, some even halfheartedly singing, Sara shakes her head.

"I'm ready."

"You sure?"

Nodding, Sara looks briefly at Catherine before again looking away.

"I'm sure."

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You doing alright?"

Sara nods tightly, eyes clenched shut before she pries them open, hand continuing to grip nearly every car in the lot as we pass.

"Easy," I call, no longer able to resist reaching out to take her arm when her hip connects solidly with a side mirror.

"I'm sorry," she gets out, her legs desperately trying to stay walking in a straight line, to hide just how intoxicated she is right now.

"It's alright," I soothe gently. "Take your time."

Keeping my grip on her firm, we navigate the remaining maze of cars until we reach mine.

Helping her get situated, I step around back to the driver side.

"You start to feel like you're going to be sick, you let me know," I warn her seriously. "There will be no vomiting in my car."

The briefest hint of a smile touches Sara's lips before she closes her eyes, head leaning over to place itself against the cold window.

Eying her nervously, I put the car in gear.

The ride is silent as I pull from my memory the directions to Sara's place. When her apartment complex comes into view, a curious mix of relief and disappointment rises within me.

"Sara."

When I pull into a spot and shut off the engine, I reach over, gently shaking her shoulder.

"Sara, honey, we're here."

Jerking alert at the touch, Sara eyes me anxiously before she realizes where she is.

"Shit, sorry."

Reaching for her belt, she misses the buckle at least three times before finally successfully releasing it.

"I'm walking you to your door," I firmly decide.

"No, I'm-"

"Fine. Of course. Like you always are."

Sara can hear the complete lack of room for argument in my tone. She's not fine, and she's only growing more not fine as the alcohol is finally fully catching up with her.

As she stands, I get the car doors closed before I wrap my arm securely around her waist. Guiding her slowly, we use one of the more private back entrances into the building. When we finally get to her door on the fifth floor, I watch Sara fumble with her keys for a few moments before I gently take them from her shaking hands.

Quickly deducing which is which, I let us inside.

She turns, stumbling slightly as she removes herself from my hold.

"Thank you," she tells me quietly. "I appreciate the ride."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own?" I question seriously, hating to leave the brunette like this.

I worry about her falling over, hitting her head, vomiting in her sleep, and a dozen other horrible fears as I watch her holding the counter tightly as she sways.

"I'll be okay," she assures me. "Just need a shower…coffee…"

"Sleep," I correct her. "You need sleep, honey."

Sara looks away, growing definitively more uncomfortable.

"Come on," I call, stepping fully into her apartment as I make a decision.

"What…"

She has no time to argue as I take hold of her by the hips and all but push her towards the back rooms of her apartment.

Seeing what I'm looking for, I direct her into the room on the right.

"What are you doing?"

"Forcing you to do what I know you won't if left to your own devices."

Opening and closing her dresser drawers, I gather what I need.

Tossing the items on the bed, I point to them. "I'm going to turn around since I suspect you'd be less than thrilled with me helping you for this portion. When I turn back around you're going to be dressed in those and in your bed."

Sara hesitates, eyeing me with what looks like a mixture of confusion, anger, frustration, and shock.

"I'm not joking," I warn her before I send her one last purposeful look.

Turning, I face the wall with my arms folded over my chest.

Hearing her curse, the soft thuds and shuffles that follow let me know she's at least doing what I've asked.

When she goes quiet, I turn my head.

"You decent?"

Not hearing a response, I move to face her fully.

Seeing what greets me, I can't help but smile.

"Sara Sidle," I breathe out. "What in the world am I going to do with you?"

Approaching the brunette splayed out on top of her covers, I compromise by pulling the extra blanket from the foot of her bed and gently laying it over her. Taking her shoulder lightly, I pull her slightly towards me until she's on her side, positioning her legs under the covers in a way that prevents her from accidentally rolling onto her back. Everything I can do to be sure she's as safe as possible if she does end up vomiting.

Leaning down, I gently tuck the wayward strands of her dark hair behind her ear, watching her expression as she sleeps.

Seeing the furrowed brow, the tightly clenched jaw, I let out a sigh.

"What demons are you fighting, Sidle?"

Stroking her hair gently one last time, I pull back, knowing there's nothing more I can do for this haunted soul tonight.

* * *

SARA POV

The first thing I notice is the pounding in my head. The second thing I notices is the blinding light against my eyes.

"Fuck."

Groaning, I fight to get my eyes fully open, covering my face with my arm until I can manage to keep them from shutting against the glare.

Looking over at the clock, I'm relieved to find I still have a few solid hours before work. Something tells me I'm going to need every bit of it to make myself presentable.

Pushing to a stand, I clench my mouth shut against the nausea swirling through me as the room starts to spin. Waiting until I'm relatively steady, I slowly shuffle to the bathroom, shedding my boxers and t-shirt as I go.

When I reach the shower, I turn the water on, leaving it as cold as possible to help sober me up.

When I finish trying to scrub all of the remnants of the bar away, I step out, grabbing a towel as I start to shiver against the cool air. When I replace it along the wall, I nearly drop it as my gaze lands on my reflection in the mirror.

Eyes traveling down to my shoulder, a streak of red has my eyes fixed to it. My hand gently traces the line, my brain pulling images of vivid memory as it reminds me of exactly how I got that particular mark.

Kelly.

Remembering everything about last night, I have no problem recalling our rendezvous in the restroom. The heated kiss, the barely contained hands.

The desperate need for a distraction, an escape from everything.

"What are you doing, Sidle?" I glare at the stranger in front of me, at the person who once would have never let something like what transpired with Kelly happen.

Not while we were drunk, not while our intentions weren't clear or communicated, not while I was all but looking for anything and anyone to distract me from the demons all but consuming me. Kelly deserved better than that.

"Fuck," I curse, disgusted with myself. At this person who lets desires overcome principles.

And, if I'm honest, principles that pertain not only to Kelly, but Catherine.

Here we were, finally making some progress with one another, sharing cigarettes and conversation as we successfully avoided the more complicated aspects of our relationship for once. Catherine was nothing but supportive yesterday, making sure I was okay and that I got home safely, watching over me throughout the evening at the bar as she allowed me to try to let go of everything.

And, where was I?

Making out with her best friend in the bathroom.

Tightening my hand into a fist, I angrily hit my counter, wondering how I let something like that happen.

No, I don't owe Catherine anything. No, she and I are essentially nothing more than barely friendly acquaintances right now. I have no obligations to her, and she has none to me. Kelly and I are both consenting adults. And, I'm not going to deny that kissing her felt beyond good.

So, why does it also feel so deceitful, so wrong, to have been with Kelly? Why do I feel so sickeningly guilty?

Pushing away from the counter, I let the room steady itself before I move to my kitchen. Turning on the coffeemaker, I glance again at the clock as it brews.

Watching the swirling dark liquid, I fight against the thoughts and emotions moving through me.

I wanted a distraction from Gabe, from the voices of the victims haunting me every time I close my eyes. I wanted a night of oblivion, of freedom to self-destruct and stop trying to so desperately hold myself together.

Part of me got that, got exactly what I wanted.

But, a bigger part of me simply got more demons, more regrets.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews – truly means a lot. I love hearing your guys' thoughts and opinions along these journeys. While a lot of times the major plot points of my stories are set in my head before I ever post the first chapter, I love hearing everyone's unique perspectives on the characters, the pairings, etc, as they are revealed along the way. Your insights give me the opportunity view these characters in ways that are new and refreshing, hearing thoughts and perspectives beyond my own. You guys are wonderful and your ever present support of my writing means the world.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 23

_"Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms."_

_William Shakespeare_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You look like shit."

Sara's eyes meet mine briefly, the brunette quickly looking away to focus back on the papers in front of her.

"Thanks."

Smiling slightly, I push a coffee across the layout table.

"Extra shots of espresso."

I watch her gaze meet mine again and I grimace at the dark circles ever present under the young woman's eyes, even more prominent than usual this morning.

"A lot of extra shots."

Sara finally breaks her tense gaze, her mouth letting out the barest hint of a smile before she takes the beverage, using it to warm her hands a moment before taking a sip.

"Thanks," she tells me, this time genuinely.

"You get here early?" I ask, noting the amount of progress she's already made processing the evidence from our rave in the desert. "You have to be the only person I've ever known to come in early when they're hungover."

Sara shakes her head, pushing a paper away to focus on the next.

"The victims shouldn't have to wait just because I decided to get drunk last night."

I appreciate her dedication, at her work ethic that rivals that of anyone I've ever worked with. Even my own, which says a lot. But, I worry that these are clearly habits the brunette cannot possibly sustain long term. Even now she looks like she's barely holding herself together, her coloring off as I'm sure she's more than a bit nauseous. Even I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, and I had only a tiny fraction of the amount of alcohol the brunette did.

She should've called off. I know for a fact she has more overtime stored up than most people could dream of. Everyone here would be supportive of the workaholic young CSI taking a break for once. The only time she's spent away from the lab having been when she was forced to for the trial. When she was sent to stay in jail until the case was dropped. And, being subjected to the hells that she was put through in that jail cannot be qualified as any sort of break.

She needed the chance to let go of everything haunting her for just one night. And, this morning, she more than deserved the time off to recover.

"Did it help?"

Sara looks up at my question, searching my gaze for a hint of what I'm asking her.

"Last night," I clarify. "Did it help?"

Sara's expression darkens slightly, the reaction surprising me.

"No," she shakes her head. "I shouldn't have let that happen. It was unprofessional, irresponsible."

"Sara…"

She looks away, drawing in a shaking breath as she takes a long drink of coffee.

"Sara," I call again, reaching out and taking her wrist when she sets the coffee back down. "Listen to me. You needed to escape, and I more than supported you. Then and now. You did nothing wrong."

The young woman's expression pales slightly at my words, her fist clenching tightly.

"Hey," I call, reaching out with my other hand to draw her face back towards mine. "Don't do this to yourself. You can't be holding yourself to these inhuman standards all the time. You're one of the most dedicated, professional, and responsible CSIs I've ever come across. Don't ever doubt that for a moment."

I move my hand from her wrist to squeeze her arm.

"Don't let yourself burn out because you're too stubborn to stop holding yourself to these impossible principles. Ones that no one could feasibly ever sustain."

I'm not sure if she's listening, taking in what I'm saying. Her expression gives nothing away, remaining quiet as usual.

"This field needs you, Sara. You're one of the most talented CSIs I know. But, you're no help to anyone if you keep going like this and burn out before you even hit your mid-30's."

Leaning in, I move my hand to her shoulder.

"I need you around for the long road, Sara. Who else is going to challenge me, frustrate me, and push me in the ways that only you seem to accomplish so well," I question with a wink, letting her see the kindness in my tone.

Taking a deep breath, she straightens up, nodding to me to let me know my message has been heard. Loud and clear.

"I, uh," she clears her throat. "I think I found something that connects our vics."

And, with that, she gives me one last look, and I give her shoulder one last squeeze, before we move on to the work at hand.

* * *

"Still can't believe the extent of things people are willing to do to their own bodies."

Sara simply shrugs noncommittally, the brunette having barely raised a brow during Doc's post that revealed more drugs, piercings, tattoos, and high risk lifestyle choices than I could have imagined two teenage boys having had access to. But, the world is a very different place than it was when I was their age. And, my own past at that time had its very own colorful chapters.

It makes me nervous for Lindsey. For this changed world that she's going to be growing up in, one where it seems nearly impossible to remain innocent much longer than kindergarten.

"It really doesn't bother you?" I question curiously.

"Choices are choices," she says simply, glancing at me as we ascend the stairs from the morgue.

"Okay, but don't tell me you support those choices?" my eyes widen. "Those kids in there were billboards for irresponsible decisions, might as well have put themselves in front of a loaded gun."

"So it's their fault they ended up murdered?" Sara questions, tone neutral.

"No," I counter. "I'm not saying that. But I'm saying that they may have never been in this situation if they didn't put themselves right in harm's way with the lifestyles they were leading. This world is unpredictable enough without making lifestyle choices that increase the odds of bad outcomes."

"Lifestyle choices…" Sara mumbles the words somewhat quietly. "Lifestyle choices that increase the odds of bad outcomes. Like the ones that place people at a higher risk for disease, death?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she raises a brow, nodding with an unreadable expression. "Like smoking?"

I look at her, eyes wide.

"I'm just saying," she shrugs. "We all make poor decisions even when we sometimes know better. We're just the lucky ones who haven't been asked to pay the price yet."

Sending me one last glance, we finish our journey to the main lab.

_Damn it, Sidle,_ I mutter to myself, unable to help the small smile that comes to my lips. _Touché._

* * *

"You going to be okay here if I take off?"

Not bothering to look up, Sara nods. "Have a nice night."

Then, perhaps not hearing me leaving, she looks up, for the first time noticing my expression.

"Everything okay?" she asks, concern lacing her tone.

"Yeah," I breathe out. "At least I think so."

Seeing her narrowed eyes, trying to read through the lines, I shrug, glancing down at my phone.

"Kelly asked to speak with me after shift." I tap my fingers along the edge of the screen. "She just seemed a bit…off. I don't know," I shrug, "probably nothing."

Sara gets strangely quiet, her features paling slightly as she looks away from me.

"Maybe."

The brunette's own behavior is now adding to my list of things that are 'off.' What the hell is going on with everyone today?

Giving her one last confused glance, I shake my head and walk out.

* * *

"Lindsey inside?" I ask, Kelly having done me the favor of picking her up today from school since I stayed a little past the end of shift.

"Yeah," Kelly answers, gesturing to the open screen door where she's been keeping an eye on my daughter playing with what looks like a puzzle on the living room floor.

Heading in, I greet Lindsey with a huge hug and kiss, much to her dismay.

"That's gross, mom," she squeals as she wipes dramatically at her cheek.

Laughing, I ruffle her hair before stepping away.

"How was your day, sweetheart?"

Lindsey fills me in on the day's events, which involves lots of drama surrounding a lost toy at recess. And, Lindsey's apparent CSI skills showing up early as she confidently states, "I know Danny took it."

Not able to resist, I raise a brow. "And how do you know that?"

"Because Danny's a weirdo."

Not able to help the laugh that escapes before I can hold it in, I try to make my face appear neutral. But, God help me, it's hard. And, apparently my daughter's investigative skills need some time to evolve.

"Linds, you know we don't say things like that about other people," I say, putting on my best 'mom' look. "It's not nice."

Lindsey shrugs, "I guess," she agrees. "But, it's true," she adds as an afterthought.

"Even so," I tell her, "we only say nice things about other people, okay?"

She considers this, eventually agreeing to the terms of this arrangement. "Okay."

"Good," I move over and kiss her hair before stepping back. "Kel and I are going to talk outside for a bit. You going to be okay in here?"

"Yup," she barely glances up from the puzzle she's determined to figure out.

"We're right outside the door, call if you need us."

"Uh huh," she mutters, distractedly fitting another piece together.

Smiling, I take a deep breath before moving back outside to join Kelly on the front porch.

* * *

Wordlessly, Kelly reaches over, handing me a glass of what looks like lemonade as I take a seat.

"Thanks," I take a long appreciative sip of the refreshing beverage. "So," I call when it looks like Kelly is going to remain silent. "What's on your mind?"

Kelly looks over at me, appearing more conflicted then I've seen my friend in a long time.

"I kissed Sara."

There it is. In true Kelly fashion, she doesn't waste time, never one to be able to dance around the topic when something's bothering her.

My own eyes go wide, not expecting this confession in the least.

"What…" I get out. "When?"

"At the bar last night."

I swallow, mind flashing back to Kelly and Sara's disappearance.

"When you said you were in the bathroom."

"We were," she amends. "But we were…"

"In the bathroom kissing."

Kelly nods uncomfortably. Kelly is a lot like me in most ways, but she's a bit more reserved than I am. She doesn't necessarily like topics relating to personal things like this, much more in her comfort zone when we're talking about these things when they relate to other people instead of herself.

"Okay…" I get out, still trying to wrap my head around this development. While I knew Sara and Kelly had a unique connection, getting along better and quicker than I would have anticipated, I did not see this coming. Yes, I knew Kelly found Sara attractive, but I never thought…

"Wow."

Kelly groans, leaning her head back against her chair.

"I know."

Trying to gather my thoughts, I face her.

"Are you upset it happened?" I ask her curiously. "Seemed like you like her."

"I'm not upset it happened," Kelly answers. "It was really good, to be honest. And something I'd wanted to do for a while. I'm just more…confused."

"About?"

"I'm not gay," Kelly tells me seriously, making me smile slightly. "I've never just gone to a woman at a bar and made out with them in the bathroom. No matter how attractive they are."

Kelly shakes her head, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "And I've certainly never wanted to do anything more than make out with a woman before, either."

Oh.

Brows raising at her unspoken insinuation, I try to couch my expression, not wanting to spook Kelly any more than she already is.

"Kelly," I tell her seriously. "You can't help who you like. Doesn't make you gay, doesn't make you straight. Whoever you like is who you like. Attraction can't be boxed into neat categories like that."

"I just…" Kelly trails off. "It's freaking me out."

Smiling slightly, I feel my thoughts racing, picturing Kelly and Sara sneaking off to make out with each other in the bathroom. Both drunk, but both clearly interested.

God, and to think I spent the whole day with Sara and she didn't give away a damn thing.

"I wanted to talk to you," Kelly says quietly, as if reading my thoughts. "Before you heard it from Sara."

I laugh, "You really think Sara would ever tell me something like this? Better chance of the president telling our foreign enemies our nuclear codes."

"Good point."

Kelly straightens up, eyes searching mine.

"You aren't angry, are you?" she asks sincerely, body language revealing her nervousness. "I know Sara is your colleague at work, and I don't want to complicate things for you professionally. I don't know what this is, or will be, but it doesn't have to be anything if you tell me to stop."

Kelly and I have been best friends for years, I know her allegiances are to me, like they always have been. Just like mine are to her.

And, if I'm honest, the thought of her and Sara together stirs some less than pleasant emotions in me. Ones that I can't quite sort out. I want Kelly to be happy. I want her to be with someone who is respectful, loyal, kind. All things which I know Sara to be.

But, maybe it's that I still don't quite trust Sara. Yes, my trust for her has grown, and I wouldn't hesitate to trust her with most things. But, I don't know her well enough, don't trust her well enough, to feel guaranteed that something as important as the heart of my best friend is safe in her hands. A whole other level of trust is required for something like that, and I honestly don't think Sara and I are there yet.

But, while all of that is true, I think another part of me is feeling emotions much more selfish. While I want Kelly to be happy and safe, part of me is frustrated that my friend has gotten to a place with Sara where the brunette is willing to lower her guard enough to be making out with her in a bar restroom.

Meanwhile, I can barely get Sara to consistently call me by my first name.

"You alright?" Kelly asks, watching the emotions playing across my features.

"Yeah," I answer. "Just trying to give you an honest response. But, I'm not really sure how I feel."

"You," Kelly trails off, eyes growing wide. "Oh God, you don't also…"

I look over, mind putting together her unspoken ending.

"Do I also like her?" I raise a brow.

"God, if I overstepped…if you and Sara…"

"Kel," I cut her off. "Sara and I…"

I breathe in, steadying my own emotions.

"Sara and I are barely civil. We barely speak. And, when we do, it's about work."

Lowering my gaze, I shake my head.

"There's nothing but a professional relationship between Sara and I."

"Are you sure?" Kelly asks me, searching my expression.

"If you want to pursue things with Sara," I tell Kelly, meeting her eyes. "You have my blessing."

* * *

Knocking on the wooden door, I wait a few moments in silence before I hear it opened.

"Catherine?" Sara questions quietly, keeping her voice low for the sake of her neighbors at this late hour.

"Sorry to drop by like this," I respond, glancing over her boxers and t-shirt. "Did I catch you sleeping?"

Sara shakes her head, stepping back to let me inside.

"I don't want to take a lot of your time," I state as she closes the door quietly. "I just wanted to discuss something with you privately before we see each other at work."

Sara nods, moving to place herself against the counter, respectfully waiting for me to start.

"I spoke with Kelly."

The brunette's expression doesn't change, the young woman being smart enough to know exactly the reason I'm here.

"I'm not your boss. I'm not here to tell you what you can and cannot do on your own personal time."

I watch her expression.

"Or who you can do it with."

Taking a deep breath, I steady myself, trying to get this out.

"But, you should know that Kelly is my best friend. One of the finest people that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." I step slightly closer to my silent companion. "If she's just another distraction to you, if she's someone that you're just using to escape whatever demons you're running from, then find someone else to use."

I keep my gaze stern, letting her see the unspoken threat I'm not even bothering to hide.

"She deserves better."

Sara straightens up, her own hazel gaze hard.

"You don't know me," she finally gets out. "So I'm going to let your assumptions about me go. But don't think for one minute I would intentionally hurt Kelly, or anyone, in that way."

"So your feelings for her are genuine?" I question directly.

Sara's hard gaze leaves mine. "I don't…" she trails off. "I don't know what my feelings towards her are. Not yet."

When she looks up, I see the honesty in her eyes.

"Which," she tells me tightly. "I directly communicated to her last night."

Sara shakes her head. "I don't know what this thing is between us, I don't know what I want it to be. If I even want it to be anything." Her eyes burn into mine. "And I made sure she knew that up front. I would never…"

Swallowing, Sara again looks away, eyes dark.

"I may be a lot of things, Miss Willows, but I would never use someone in that way."

When she remains quiet, her gaze looking elsewhere and her expression reflecting the traces of hurt that she can't completely bury, I lean forward, turning her face back towards mine.

"I may not know you," I agree with her statement spoken just moments ago. "But I know enough about you that when it comes to keeping other people safe, there's no one I would trust more."

I watch her closely.

"But, Sara, you have to understand this is my best friend we're talking about."

Jaw tight under my grip, Sara's gaze doesn't falter.

"Figure out what this is, what the two of you are. Before someone gets hurt."

Taking my hands off her, I step back, giving her one last glance as I show myself out.

When I reach my car, I can't help the way my fist tightens against the steering wheel.

I can't help but acknowledge how my heart tightens much the same in my chest. My conversation with Kelly, this conversation with Sara. Giving my blessing for them to figure themselves out without interference from me. Each time it felt like a little bit more of my heart was getting torn off.

Imagining them together, imagining the two of them holding hands, laughing together, smiling at each other from across a room, waking up in each other's arms…all of it makes my hands grip tighter and my eyes well with tears I refuse to let fall.

How is it that it takes losing something you never had to realize it was something that you wanted?

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: So sorry for the long delay in updates. Life got in the way. But even more so did the fact that my computer decided to unexpectedly leave this earthly existence. Completely dead. Thank goodness still under warranty - finally exchanged with a new one last night. Lack of computer has significantly delayed the updates (and significantly increased my mental discombobulation), so I apologize. Hopefully this weekend I will have some more time to catch up and get back on track. Thank you as always to those who have been so supportive of this story - and everyone who has taken the time to read and review. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 24

_"Neither have they hearts to stay, nor wit enough to run away." _

_Samuel Butler_

* * *

KELLY POV

"You came."

"You invited me."

I smile slightly, watching Sara as she takes in the images displayed along the walls in front of us. Her eyes fixing on a particularly complicated work, her brows furrow slightly.

"I didn't think you'd come, to be honest."

Finally, after a few more moments of silent contemplation, Sara turns to face me.

"I didn't think I would either," she admits quietly, eyes slightly apologetic.

I appreciate her honesty, knowing there are a lot of complications and unspoken subtleties to this situation.

"I thought perhaps we could use the time to talk. I think…" I trail off before finding my intended words. "I think we could both benefit from an open discussion."

The brunette nods slightly, eyes returning to the pieces of art closest to us. While she and I need to discuss the issues at hand, I know Sara's personality well enough to know that she, and I, could both benefit from having this particular conversation somewhere that we aren't forced to stare at each other awkwardly. One where we can be open, and perhaps _more_ open, because we're given the comfort of a certain physical distance and distraction.

"I spoke with Catherine," I tell Sara, perhaps as a way of starting the conversation more than anything else.

Sara nods as we slowly move through the mostly deserted halls of the art gallery, remaining silent but tensing slightly.

"She seemed surprised," I continue. "But supportive."

Sara doesn't immediately respond, her expression hard to read as she glances over the painting nearest her.

"Supportive of what, exactly?" she eventually questions.

"Supportive of whatever we want this to be."

And, there's the part of this conversation that holds the largest point of contention for me. For both of us.

"I…"

Sara shakes her head, hands pushing deep into the pockets of her jeans.

"I don't know what I want this to be, Kelly."

Expression darkening, she glances over at me.

"I'm not sure I will figure it out quickly, either. And that's not fair to you. You deserve someone who knows what they want, not someone who's torn about almost every aspect of her life right now."

"Hey," I call, stepping slightly closer to the tall woman who looks like she's all but drowning in her own feelings of guilt. "Stop."

Shaking my head, I keep her gaze on mine. "I'm a participant in this, too, Sara. You weren't the only one in that bathroom that night. And, you certainly aren't the only one who's conflicted."

I feel my cheeks reddening slightly as I try to keep my voice firm.

"You're the first person…female…the first female person I've ever…done that with."

Okay, so the delivery could definitely have been a lot smoother, but Sara clearly gets my point as a slight look of surprise crosses her otherwise guarded features.

"What?"

"Need I repeat myself?" I mutter. "Please don't make me admit that out loud again."

"No," she forces herself to focus back to the conversation. "Sorry, I guess I'm just surprised."

"Why?" I raise a brow.

"I just, I don't get…" she trails off, searching for the words. "Why me?"

I laugh, glad for a small break in the tension.

"Have you looked in a mirror?" I smile.

If anything, Sara appears even more confused.

"I don't know what it is about you, Sara," I answer seriously. "You're gorgeous, of course. But there's more to it than that. I can't explain it, I just feel like there's this connection I have with you. This feeling of safety I get when I'm around you. Trust."

I try to voice my thoughts. "There's a lot about you that just feels right to me. Feels like…"

I trail off, not knowing quite the word I'm looking for.

But, perhaps I don't need to find it as Sara nods softly, eyes leaving mine as she looks somewhere behind me.

"I know," she says quietly.

It's a relief, knowing I'm not the only one here who is thinking those things. Not the only one being drawn into something that I don't fully understand or comprehend. Someone being pulled in by their feelings when rational thought keeps trying to hold me back.

"I just…" Sara breaks into my thoughts, her dark eyes shifting slowly back to mine. "I just worry."

"About?" I ask, eager for Sara to open up about her particular feelings on the matter. The private brunette doesn't give much away about anything, and this particular situation so far has been no different. She's hard to read, and without her voicing her thoughts there's no way I could ever start to guess them.

"I worry about the fact that you don't know me," she says honestly, voice low as we watch a couple of older women move past us to the next exhibit. "I worry that if you did…"

I study her, watching the emotions that cross through her gaze.

"You worry that if I knew you better, I wouldn't feel the same about you as I do now."

Sara nods, affirming my statement.

"What is it that you're scared of me finding out?" I question sincerely, noting that this is not the first time she's alluded to this concern. "What is it that you think is going to suddenly change my feelings for you?"

Sara's expression darkens, her jaw tightening as she shifts slightly. "There's a lot of things…I've done. Things about me. I…"

Sara's voice tightens, the words sounding like they are being dragged from her throat.

"Hey," I call. Reaching out, I take her jaw gently, turning her gaze back to mine. "Talk to me, Sara."

Shaking her head, Sara pulls out of my grasp, placing two large steps of distance between us as she moves back.

"This…this is all a mistake. You don't know what you're getting into. You don't deserve someone like me, Kelly, you deserve so much better…"

Stepping forward, I quickly match the distance she's placed between us. Without another word, I grasp the front of her shirt, keeping her in place as I lean up, meeting my lips with hers.

The kiss is gentle, but firm, her words immediately silenced as her body goes completely still. Deepening the contact, my free hand finds its way to her neck, placing itself in her soft hair.

When I pull back, Sara's eyes are closed, the brunette not moving at all, her slow breaths in and out the only sign of life.

Blinking her eyes open, her gaze is slightly surprised, clearly not having predicted that particular action on my part.

"I don't know a lot about you," I agree with her earlier words, quietly sharing my thoughts in the slight space between our bodies. "All I know is that you're the only person who's ever made me feel…_that_…from just a kiss."

I place my hand against her chest, holding her steady.

"I don't know what you're afraid of me finding out," I say. "But I think you underestimate the level of revelation it would take to change my feelings."

Sara's eyes lower, her heart rate picking up, the heavy beats thudding against hand.

"And I think _you_ underestimate the level of revelation that's inside of me, Kelly."

Sara's eyes are heavy, her expression dark, her mouth tightening as she swallows, my own lips still tingling from our kiss.

"Do you feel anything for me?" I ask.

When her gaze shifts to mine, I continue.

"Do you feel anything when we kiss?" I ask directly. "Because if you don't, then I want you to be honest with me and stop this before it goes any further. But, if you do feel something, Sara, and you're just too scared to explore it, then I'm not okay with that."

"I…" Sara swallows again, her eyes leaving mine as she struggles to keep herself from pulling out of my grip.

"I feel something," she gets out in barely a whisper, the tightness in her tone suggesting that the words are spoken despite her preference to keep them silenced, to keep her feelings smothered.

"Sara," I breathe out, shaking my head at the woman so beautiful and yet so tortured that's held in my grasp. "You need to talk to me and let me decide for myself what I am or am not willing to pursue with you."

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You okay?"

Glancing up, Sara seems surprised to find me standing next to her, as if she never even heard my entrance. Which says a lot as the brunette is usually hyperaware of her surroundings. Especially when it comes to me and my proximity to her.

"I'm fine," she says evenly, straightening up as she switches out one slide for another under the microscope.

"Right," I raise a disbelieving brow.

"The transfer from both our vics' clothing is an identical match. Places them both in proximity prior to their death."

Sighing at Sara's clear change of topic, I move closer to peer down the eyepiece of the microscope. Apparently this morning we're strictly business.

"So we have our vics in physical contact before they were killed." I straighten back up. "But, they were at a rave, I would bet a lot of people there have similar transfer. Not exactly the best place for personal space."

Sara nods, "But it at least provides a timeline. Transfer has the same level of recrystallization in the mineral composition from the decomp of the bodies. Which places its exposure time as identical for both victims."

"Meaning?" I raise my brows.

"Meaning they were together not just that evening, but that they were together when they died as they have the same time of death."

Following her logic, I slowly nod. Two people killed in exactly the same place at exactly the same time. Clearly related to the same motive, and of course presumably the same killer.

"We need to find who was at that party. Someone had to see two people murdered right in front of them. We probably have over a dozen witnesses."

"But no one wants to admit they were at an illegal rave in the desert, doing God knows what types of illegal activities."

"Then we don't wait for them to come to us. We find them."

"Ideas?" Sara questions.

"A few."

* * *

"You have a way with tracking people down," Sara raises a slightly dark humored brow, a small smile playing against her lips.

"Had some quality practice via a particularly elusive brunette CSI," I smile back.

"How did you even know there would be cameras here?"

I shrug, "Nowadays there's practically cameras everywhere."

I meet her eyes before returning them to the computer screens in front of us. "Besides, that portion of the desert used to border an old mining plot, most mines having at least some level of video surveillance for land surveying if nothing else."

Clicking on a few screens, I watch the fuzzy feeds.

"Just a matter of narrowing it down to the closest one to where our partiers would have approached or exited the rave."

Moving from one camera feed to the next, I watch the locations of each as they light up on the GPS map Sara brought up on the large screen in front of us.

"Have you spoken with Kelly?"

Sara's eyes dart to mine, the brunette clearly caught off guard. Then, censoring her emotions as usual, her stoic mask falls back into place.

"Look, Sara," I state, putting down my pen as I finally identify and mark the camera closest to the rave and turn to face her. "I'm not trying to pry. I…"

Shaking my head, I don't know whether this is a mistake, but needing to be honest.

"I just want you guys to be happy," I tell her sincerely. "And, I don't mean just Kelly."

I reach over, taking Sara's hand in mine.

Studying Sara's eyes, I run my fingers across her knuckles, feeling her cold skin against my own.

"You know that, right?" I breathe out. "I hope you can trust that I just want you both to be happy. Whatever you decide."

Squeezing her hand gently, I watch as her eyes study our joined appendages, her expression hard to read.

"You deserve to be happy, Sara."

Giving her back her hand, I breathe out.

"More than almost anyone I know."

Our gazes meet, her hazel eyes on mine before she looks away.

Leaning in, I give her shoulder a brief squeeze before I step away, moving to exit the room, exit her presence, before I take my honesty one step further and reveal something that I'll regret.

* * *

KELLY POV

Heading out from the office, I shuffle my notebooks to under my arm as my phone starts to vibrate. Glancing at the caller ID, I do a double take.

"Sara?"

Hearing silence on the other line, I start to wonder if she accidentally dialed me without knowing.

Then, I hear the phone being shifted slightly, the line still open.

"You wanted to talk," Sara states into the silence.

There's a pause.

"Let's talk."

I stop walking, grip tightening on my phone at her words.

"Where are you, Sara?"

Another pause. Then, the silence is again broken by her voice.

"My apartment."

I shuffle my keys from my pocket.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: ****Thanks for reading. ****And thanks for all those who share their thoughts and kind words with me. ****You guys really are the greatest and appreciated beyond words. ****Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 25

_"__To live is to hurt others, and through others, to hurt oneself. Cruel earth! How can we manage not to touch anything? To find what ultimate exile?" _

_Albert Camus_

* * *

KELLY POV

"Nice place."

Sara doesn't comment, simply opening the door wider to allow me enough room to pass through.

Having gotten the address from Catherine, I was surprised that Sara lives in this particular neighborhood of Vegas. Not that it's the most sketchy neighborhood one could chose to live, but it certainly has a higher element of crime and nefarious behavior than others. It's an odd choice for someone I presume could afford at least a dozen other, safer options.

What the building lacks in charm, however, the inside of Sara's place more than makes up for. It's modest in size, extremely tidy and filled with pictures, books, and many other personal touches that catch my eyes as I glance around.

"Want something to drink?" Sara asks, drawing my eyes back towards hers.

"I think I'm good," I say, feeling my insides already twisted in anxious knots, not really feeling like I can stomach anything right now.

Nodding, Sara picks up her own half consumed bottle of what looks like beer, fingers playing with the label as she gestures towards the living room.

Taking a seat on the couch, Sara sits on a chair on the other side of the coffee table that's between us.

I stay quiet, letting her dictate this process. Seemingly coming to the same realization that she's the one who called me, Sara lets out a long breath, taking a sip of her beer before tapping her fingers along the edges.

"It's not fair to drag you along without clear direction of where this is headed," Sara starts quietly, eyes boring into the amber colored bottle in her hand. "It's also not fair for me to dictate or presume what you are or are not comfortable with pursuing. You were right."

Swallowing, her eyes meet mine.

"But, Kelly, to be able to make that decision you need to know more than you know now. You need to know more of what you would be signing on for, more about me, than you currently do. Otherwise, you aren't making an informed decision."

I nod, agreeing so far to her words. Agreeing that Sara doesn't have a right to tell me what I should or should not be open to pursuing with her. And, to know what I'm open to pursuing with her I need to know _her_. I need to know the things she's been hiding, the person that she is, the sides of her that she fears will sway me.

"You sure you don't want a drink?" Sara offers quietly. "There's more than a couple things to discuss."

Shaking my head, too nervous to speak, I simply cross my legs and give her my full attention.

"Okay," she gets out, putting down her own drink as she steadies herself, eyes watching the table. "I guess the first thing you need to know…"

* * *

Standing, I numbly take the few steps needed to bring me to the front door.

"You alright?"

I nod, looking up into concerned hazel eyes.

"I should probably be the one asking you that," I state quietly, my words sounding far away to my own ears. "I know this couldn't have been easy for you. Sharing what you did."

Sara doesn't argue, but she doesn't seem to care all that much either, her concern still solely directed at me.

"I, uh," I clear my throat, trying to shake some of the haze from my brain. "I have a lot to think about, obviously."

Understanding, Sara holds the door knob, unlocking it.

"Take all the time you need, Kelly."

Reaching forward, I place my hand over hers, stopping her motions. Feeling the smooth, cold skin beneath my fingers, I gently graze my thumb across her knuckles.

Taking her hand more firmly, I pull her closer, drawing her body a few steps closer to mine. Her grip falling off the door, she raises her eyes to meet my gaze.

Reaching forward, I place my free hand gently on her chest, feeling her halted breathing beneath my touch. Leaning in, I gently place my lips against hers. The kiss is gentle, the contact light and soft.

Pulling back, I step away, taking up her former job of opening the door.

"I need to think," I repeat my previous words. "But I promise I'll talk to you soon, Sara."

While this is hard on me, I know this waiting period has to be agonizing for the brunette as well.

Nodding, she gently takes the door from my hand, holding it open as I exit.

Giving her one last look, I steady myself and walk away.

* * *

"She what?"

"She told me she was willing to proceed however I wanted. That if I still wanted to pursue things and see where they went after what she told me then she was on board."

I watch Catherine taking this in, her empty plate completely pushed away as she leans across the table to give me her full attention.

"And then…she shared with me….things about her…"

Catherine's eyes go wide.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Wow," my friend breathes out. "That was…considerate of her. To be willing to open up to you so that you were making an informed decision."

I nod, "I appreciate it beyond words. And, if I'm honest, I can see why she had so many reservations about me changing my mind once I 'knew' her better."

"That bad?" Catherine asks quietly. "I mean, I can assume her concerns were serious based on the little I do know about her past. The abuse her medical records revealed was horrific."

I shake my head, "She didn't even really bring that up. Probably figured I already knew that particular point of concern."

Catherine watches me, eyes darkening and narrowing slightly as she takes this in.

"There's more?"

I nod sadly, "Much more." I try to keep my mind from flashing back to the conversation I had with Sara now over a day ago. One that keeps playing through my thoughts nearly every free moment I get.

"And," I state tightly. "I can't help but suspect that she's still not even telling me everything. Just enough for me to get a general gist. But, there's more. I know there's even more that she's not saying."

Catherine watches me, eyes hard to read as she leans back slightly, letting out a long breath. She doesn't ask me to share any of what Sara discussed with me, and I respect her even more than I already do for it. Catherine isn't one to pry, isn't one to ask me to betray the trust that Sara put in me. Never one for gossip, particularly at the expense or betrayal of someone else.

Part of why I love and cherish my friend, one of the best human beings I've ever met.

"Do you know what you're going to do?" she asks instead.

Eyes moving to hers, I tense, my own expression shifting to something that likely looks as torn as I feel.

"I think so."

Catherine nods, reaching across to gently take my hands in hers.

"You're a great person, Kelly, with amazing instincts. I think you know what it is you want to do. You just need to trust yourself and do it."

Squeezing her hands, I nod, looking down at my own untouched meal. Pulling one hand free, I take out my phone.

Sending a quick text, I get a response almost immediately.

"That Sara?"

I nod, taking a deep breath.

"I told her I was ready to discuss my decision."

* * *

CATHERINE POV

Having not heard from Kelly all night, I anxiously look up as I notice someone enter the break room. Knowing Sara was on shift tonight, I purposely got here early as I was unable to sleep anyway, too worried about my friend and the discussion she was likely having right then. Knowing I would possibly not hear from Kelly, I decided to search out my other option.

Sara.

Seeing her pour herself a cup of coffee, she quickly takes a couple swallows, only grimacing slightly at the liquid that has to be nearly scalding.

"Hey."

Looking over, Sara's eyes are blank as they meet mine, giving me no indication to what is going on under them.

"Hey."

Downing the rest of her coffee, she places her mug near the sink, moving to exit as quickly as she entered. I'm not sure if she's avoiding me, or if she's simply being Sara. Queen of quiet introversion.

Regardless, she was of absolutely no help in getting insight into what happened between her and Kelly.

* * *

It takes nearly half the shift before I get another view of her, entering the back lab she's working in as Grissom joins along to get an update on the status of our desert rave case. We fill him in, our reports shared succinctly and efficiently, building off the information the other person shares to lay out the case for Gil.

We may barely speak a lot of the time, but we make a damn effective team. As we report on our progress, it impresses even me just how much we've already made in such a short period of time. Knowing the case is clearly in very good hands, Gil offers few words before leaving to get back to work himself.

When Sara silently goes back to taking notes on the owners of the plate numbers we identified on some of the video feeds we pulled last shift, I move slightly closer to the table.

"You okay?" I question, keeping my gaze neutral.

When she looks up, her eyes narrow.

"You just seem quiet." I state gently. "Or, quieter than usual."

"I'm okay," she answers quietly after a few more moments of silently studying me.

"Alright," I answer, straightening up as I move to the door. "I'm around if you need."

She doesn't look up this time, her grip tightening on her pen the only indication she's heard me.

"Thanks," she says in almost a whisper as I step into the doorway.

Nodding, I exit, glancing down at my phone as I walk towards my office. I see my texts to Kelly glowing back up at me, all still without a response.

I still have no idea how her talk with Sara went, what she decided. And, stoic Sidle is officially of no help.

Reaching down, I unlock my phone, fingers moving quickly across the screen.

_Kel, sorry for the zillionth text. __You don't have to talk about your decision, I just want to be sure you're okay. __Love you._

Sighing, I toss my phone onto the wooden surface of my desk. Grabbing the stack of files piled next to it, I sit down to get some of these finished before shift gets completely away from me.

* * *

Reaching forward, I grab my keys from my locker just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glance down at the screen.

_Sorry to make you worry. __Just needed some time alone with my thoughts._

I read the words from Kelly, glad to finally receive a response as I had been starting to get legitimately worried.

_You okay? _ I type, not sure if I'll get another reply.

But, about a minute goes by when I feel my phone vibrate again.

_Not really. __I told Sara no, Catherine. __That I didn't think things were going to work between us. __We were never even truly together, but for some reason this feels like one of the hardest breakups I've ever had._

Reading the words, I let out a breath, knowing how badly my friend must be hurting right now. I know she cared for Sara, likely still does. I know she didn't make this decision lightly, and to have made this particular decision was perhaps in a lot of ways harder than the alternative.

_I'm sorry, honey. __I know how excited you were and how much you wanted this to work out. __You want company tonight? __Lindsey and I can bring over some food and watch really crappy movies about princesses and talking clouds._

Closing my locker, I don't have to wait long for Kelly's response.

_Sounds perfect. __Thanks, Cath. __And I love you too._

Smiling, I'm about to step away from my locker to head home when I hear the locker room door open, quickly followed by footsteps in the row behind me.

I move to make my presence known when I hear a shuffling of bags and a quiet curse.

Immediately recognizing the voice, I draw to a stop, not knowing whether to leave quietly or approach. Now having the answer regarding what happened between Sara and Kelly, I feel like I owe the brunette some sort of conversation as well. But, to be honest, I have no idea how she is personally feeling about any of this. Yes, she was quiet today, but that's it.

Is she happy, relieved? Is she upset? Did she want things to work between herself and Kelly as much as my friend did? Was she looking for a way out and is glad that Kelly took it?

Hesitating, I step around the lockers where I can see Sara, her back to me. Reaching down, she pulls her shirt over her head, standing in her bra as she grabs what looks like a running tank top. She's already changed into running shorts, apparently planning to head out somewhere for a run instead of going home.

Feeling slightly guilty for staring at my now half-dressed coworker, I'm about to let her know I'm there when the brunette lowers her head, her tight, stoic posture finally breaking as she slumps forward, head leaning against the metal of the locker as she takes in what looks like a shaky breath. Letting it out, her shoulders slump slightly further, the young CSI appearing like she's caving under the weight of the world.

Then, before I can move, I watch her hands ball into fists.

The metallic bang that follows nearly immediately after sends me jumping, startled. Heart thundering, I watch her pull her arm back, landing another solid punch into her locker before she straightens up, dragging her hands through her hair.

"Fuck," she curses out darkly. "Fuck it all."

Pulling on her shirt, she grabs her keys, closing her locker door with much more force than needed.

Bag slung over her shoulder, she's gone before I can even fathom a single thing to say.

Stepping out of the shadows, I breathe out into the now oppressively silent air.

I guess Sara isn't as 'okay' as she professed to me earlier.

"Shit," I mutter, hating to see what I just witnessed.

While Sara's stoicism is itself quite hard to take sometimes, this is much, much worse. To see the strong, composed young woman hurting, her exposed emotions bared only when she thinks no one is watching.

It's heart wrenching to see. And, unlike Kelly, I can't simply text her. Can't offer to bring her dinner. Can't talk about it at all, really.

I have to watch her walk away, have to try to keep my promise to keep our relationship work related.

Breathing out, I decide to at least help the person that I can. Be the friend to Kelly that she needs and deserves.

And, maybe, someday, I'll be able to do the same for Sara.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks for continuing along this journey with me.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 26

_"You mustn't always believe what I say. Questions tempt you to tell lies, particularly when there is no answer."_

_Pablo Picasso_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Hey, hey, hold on a minute."

Jogging, I catch the tall brunette who was hoping to sneak in and out of the break room without being noticed. It may have worked for most of the team, but not me. Perhaps it's because I immediately noticed she wasn't there before me like she almost always is. Then, hyperaware of the brunette's absence, I noticed immediately the moment she arrived, nearly ten minutes late for shift.

Which, for Sara Sidle, is unheard of.

Barely glancing over her shoulder, Sara doesn't slow her pace, continuing out to the parking lot, assignment slip in her hand.

Almost running to catch up, I'm able to grab Sara's arm just as we reach the cool night air outside.

"Hold up, Sara," I state, catching my breath. "Jesus, woman. You're going to give me stroke here, it's too early for jogging around in heels."

Standing rigidly still, Sara's hand pauses on the door of her Tahoe.

"What do you need?" she asks me, gesturing to the slip in her hands. "I have to get going."

"You can wait for a few minutes," I tell her, seeing her up close for the first time.

If I wasn't worried before, I sure as hell would be now. She looks awful. Her eyes reflect a clear lack of sleep, deep shadows beneath her hazel gaze. She looks tired, agitated, and, looking down, I note evidence of what first drew my attention this morning when she arrived. Other than the fact she was late.

"Are you okay, Sara?"

"You need to stop asking me that," she says, clearly losing interest in having this particular conversation as soon as the topic is revealed.

Opening the door, I have just a few seconds to reach around her and slam it shut again before she gets in.

Turning, Sara's expression is even harder than before.

"What the hell are you doing, Willows?"

"Trying to stop you from being a stubborn idiot."

Before she can reply, I gaze down towards her foot. Seeing where I'm looking, Sara's gaze quickly leaves mine.

"I don't know what you-"

"Don't bother, Sara," I cut her off. "Please don't start lying to me in the first minutes of shift. At least wait a couple hours before you start that shit with me."

Jaw tightening, Sara looks less than pleased at being called out as a liar. But, her penchant for lying when it comes to her state of wellbeing doesn't mean I have to sit here and pretend to believe her. I no longer have the energy nor desire to play that particular game with her anymore.

"What happened to your foot?"

Sara swallows, dark eyes on the pavement that's nearly as dark as her expression.

"I'm a CSI, Sara," I remind her, tone trying to soften to something less stern. "I know when something's wrong."

"I…" Sara breathes out tightly, clearly hating this conversation and still trying to debate her options out of it. "It's really nothing."

I don't move, don't speak, hand remaining tightly on her car door. The message is clear. I'm not going anywhere until she stops being an idiot.

"I went for a run after work," she eventually states when I start to get worried that our shift will consist of us standing out here in the cold for all of it. "It was longer than usual. It's just sore."

"Bullshit."

Sara's eyes flash, her posture stiffening to an almost impossible level.

"Then why are you asking me if you apparently already have all the answers? What do you want me to say, Miss Willows?"

"No," I cut in. "Not again. We're not going back to that 'Miss Willows' shit. You may not like me, you may not care what I want, but dammit Sara, we're beyond that. Are we not?"

Her eyes search the surroundings, the ground, the car, anywhere but near me. Reaching out, I turn her jaw in my direction, waiting until her gaze is all but forced to meet with mine.

"Please tell me we're beyond that," I ask quietly. "Please tell me I'm not still the CSI investigating you in your eyes. Please tell me you trust me more than that by now." I breathe out, searching the deep colors in her eyes. "Please tell me I've made some sliver of progress with you."

I feel Sara's tension, her body's reaction to my words. I feel all of it under my fingers.

"Why does it matter?"

Sara's question is so quiet, I barely make it out. But, when I do, my eyes narrow in confusion.

"With me," she clarifies. "Why does it matter how I see you or if you've made progress? Why do you keep trying?"

I raise a brow, wondering how she could even ask that. How the question is even a question to her.

"Because I care about you Sara."

Seeing her guarded gaze, the walls in her expression that only seem to rise higher at my answer, I start to understand the true point of confusion for the brunette. And, it makes my heart break.

"Because you're _worth_ caring about, Sara Sidle."

Immediately, Sara pulls back, my words clearly hitting too close to the source of her confusion, too close to the question she was really asking.

"Please," Sara states, "I really need to get to my scene."

"Stop running," I tell her gently. "Stop running from people that care about you, Sara. Stop pushing everyone away."

Head lowering, Sara's hand is on the handle of her door, dark hair obscuring her features.

"Last time I checked," she barely gets out. "I wasn't the one pushing people away from me. They were the one running away as soon as they saw who I really was."

Voice low, her eyes flash up to mine.

"So please, move your hand off my fucking car door before I move it myself."

Watching her withdraw completely back into herself, I sigh, knowing exactly what she was referencing. If I didn't witness her actions in the locker room last night to betray her state of anger over what happened with Kelly, this certainly would have.

Raising my hands slowly in surrender, I take a step back, giving her room to open the door.

She's in and gone in seconds.

* * *

I haven't seen Sara all of shift. And, to make matters worse, Kelly keeps texting me to ask how the brunette is doing.

When I had dinner with her yesterday, she was devastated. She was also beyond worried regarding what impact her decision might have on Sara. She knows as well as I do how guarded Sara is, how hard it is for her to put herself out there. Then, to have been noble enough to put herself out there for Kelly, only to have Kelly decide that things weren't right to pursue…

Letting out a long breath, I put my pen down, both grateful and frustrated at Gil giving me the day to make progress on my paperwork. There's a lot of it, so it was more than appreciated, but it doesn't afford the same level of distraction that working a scene does. With most of my open cases in holding patterns as we wait for new evidence, evidence to process, suspects to be tracked down, and a myriad of other things, paperwork is the best, and only, option right now.

But, it's less than ideal.

_Haven't seen her most shift, she's been out at a scene._

I send the response to Kelly, figuring it's at least semi honest. I don't know how to inform my friend that Sara actually seems eons away from fine. That, if anything, she's only become more guarded and standoffish than she was even when I first met her. While that answer would be honest, it also would be devastating to Kelly, who was only trying to herself be honest by giving the brunette the decision she knew was right for her.

Cursing under my breath at the situation, I pick up my pen, grabbing another file to buy me perhaps another five minutes of distraction.

* * *

It's only due to a miracle that I run into Sara before I leave. Almost literally.

She's about to leave the locker room just as I'm entering. Stepping back to avoid colliding with me, Sara puts distance between us. Which, in turn, allows me to step inside and lock the door behind me.

Eyes shooting up, Sara looks beyond angry.

"We had a deal."

Dark eyes jerking from the door to mine, she shakes her head.

"Excuse me?"

"Your health," I clarify though I more than believe she already knew what I was referring to. "We had a deal. You let me check in on you, or I go to Grissom."

"That was a deal related to the incident in the desert," she bites out. "Nothing more."

I wonder how in the hell someone can refer to themselves being stabbed and nearly bleeding to death as an 'incident', but I push that particular topic aside.

"Which I haven't checked in on," I tell her seriously. "Now I want to."

"It's been weeks," Sara states. "I'm fine. I would've been dead by now if I wasn't."

Though she has a point, there're a lot of other options between fine and dead. I obviously know Sara isn't dead, but something tells me she isn't quite fine either.

"A deal is a deal."

"This is ridiculous," Sara states tightly. "Our deal was void the second I got better. And, it's sure as hell void now."

"Why?" I question, crossing my arms over my chest in challenge. "Because of what happened between you and Kelly?"

I shake my head at my colleague.

"That is between you and Kelly, Sara. It has nothing to do with me, nor my own relationship with you."

"Doesn't it?" she questions with a raised brow. "Let's be realistic."

"Kelly hasn't told me anything about what you two talked about," I state evenly. "And she never will. Though, I suspect you already knew that before you trusted her with the information in the first place."

Sara doesn't argue, some of the anger leaving her as she looks away instead.

"I would never ask her about it either, Sara. That's your business, not mine." I keep my gaze firm though she's still staring somewhere beyond my shoulder.

"What happened between the two of you happened between the _two of you_. In my eyes, it has no bearing on my own relationship with you at all."

Sara's gaze remains firmly behind me. A good solid couple minutes tick by, the room completely silent. Then, slowly, her head lowers slightly.

"I'm honestly fine," she says quietly.

"Then just let me see for myself. The foot also."

Sara's gaze is heavy when she finally raises her eyes back up to mine.

"Please, Sara."

Letting out a breath, the brunette raises her hands slightly, holding them away from her body.

Taking that as permission, I step closer.

"Thank you," I offer sincerely, watching as she again moves her gaze beyond me.

Gently taking hold of her shirt, I lift it upwards, stopping when I reach the bottom of her bra. Looking over the skin beneath, I grimace, seeing the stab wounds that are now transitioning from angry red gashes to deep scars.

Looking over her ribs, a lot of the bruising has decreased, but there are still a couple areas that hold a deep discoloration. Using one hand to keep her shirt up, I gently probe those areas with the other.

Feeling Sara's breathing catch, I try to keep my touches light.

"I was hoping the bruising would all be gone by now." I say honestly. "It definitely appears better, but still looks beyond painful."

Sara doesn't comment, and I knew she wouldn't. Both impressed and worried at Sara's ability to handle pain, I try to keep my mind focused on the task at hand.

However, seeing the thin, toned muscles of her torso, it's hard to keep my fingers from traveling from her ribs to trace the tanned, tight definition of the body on display before me. Clearing my throat, I lower her shirt back in place.

Gesturing to her foot, I move to put a bench between us for her to set her foot on.

Taking the hint, Sara pulls off her shoe and sock, placing her foot along the bench.

Reaching down, I lift her jeans away from her lower leg.

And, when I do, I immediately see the problem.

"Sara, your ankle…"

Sara doesn't comment, and I know she doesn't need to be told what I'm seeing. She knows damn well what she was trying to hide.

"You want to tell me what really happened?" I question, grimacing as I trace the bruising around her ankle bones.

Knowing the ruse is up, that there's no benefit to trying to play dumb anymore, she shrugs.

"Twisted it on a rock."

I wince, "Looks like you sprained it pretty good. Should probably get it looked at."

"It'll be fine," Sara counters. "Isn't the first time this has happened on a run."

"Perhaps because you go running in the middle of fucking nowhere with no paved paths."

And, knowing the state Sara was in when she left yesterday, something tells me the brunette's run last night was likely a lot longer and a lot more aggressive than they typically already are. I can all but picture the young CSI trying to force all her anger and frustration out of her, likely being less than careful about where and how she went about doing it.

Sara doesn't comment, but a slight pull at the side of her mouth lets me know she heard me just fine.

Pulling her sock and shoe back on, Sara eagerly moves her foot back to the ground, having completed her part of the deal.

"We done?" she asks.

"How are you not limping more?" I question in disbelief. "You were a little this morning when you came in, which is how I knew something was wrong in the first place. But how are you walking at all?"

Sara shrugs, "Practice."

Heart clenching at her words and her casual reference to hiding her injuries and pain, I sigh.

Someday, I hope Sara finds a place, a person, something or somewhere that she feels comfortable expressing the pain she feels. So she doesn't have to keep hiding herself away from anything she perceives to be weakness. Someone as strong as her deserves a safe haven, some relief from her stoic façade that she wears as armor to protect her from a world that likely has been less than kind to her.

She deserves to not feel that every time she opens up she's only going to be rejected, or hurt, for it. She deserves someone willing to look at all of her, from her deepest darkness to her brightest light, and accept her. Love her. Darkness and all.

"We done?" she questions again with a raised brow, eyes searching my expression curiously.

"We're done," I confirm.

Reaching out, I take her arm gently in my hand as she moves to pass.

"I'm really sorry about what happened with Kelly," I tell her quietly. Knowing this is the last time I will bring this up to the brunette, but feeling like I needed to get the sentiment off my chest. "I'm so proud of you for doing what you did for her to be able to make her decision. I'm sorry that this was the one that she made."

Sara is still, her eyes on the floor.

Then, nodding, she pulls herself gently from my grip.

Unlocking the door and opening it, she turns her head towards her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow…Catherine."

Eyes flashing to mine briefly, she exits the room.

* * *

**AN:** **Thanks for reading.**


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Thanks as always to those wonderful people supporting and following this story. You guys are amazing. **

**Lastly, I would be remiss not to acknowledge that this chapter is being posted on the day that the final episode of CSI ever is being shown for us in the US. What an amazing show, what an amazing run, what an amazing legacy it has left regarding the crime television genre. Will be sad to see these characters officially leave my weekly television screen. **

**Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 27

_"We lie loudest when we lie to ourselves."_

_-Eric Hoffer_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You missed morning assignments."

"I had a lead," Sara answers without looking up from the photo in her hands that she's rearranging with another. "On one of our suspects from the desert rave. Finally tracked down the driver of the Bronco with the obscured plate number."

"Yeah, Grissom informed me."

Looking up, Sara's hands pause in their motions.

"I'm sorry," she says hesitantly. "It was hours after shift…I assumed you were asleep…I wanted to be sure it would pan out before I woke you and dragged you in here for nothing, since you have your daughter to take care of…I wasn't trying to cut you out of the case…"

"Sara," I stop her apologies. "I'm not mad, that's not even why I came in here."

Sara's posture straightens, the younger woman putting the photos down.

Laughing lightly, I resist the urge to take her hands in mine, to try to help settle the clearly rattled CSI.

"You know, I'm not always tracking you down to lecture you or yell at you, so you can stop looking at me like that."

Sara smiles slightly, eyes leaving mine briefly as she takes a long, calming breath.

"Why did you come in then?" she brings her gaze back up to mine.

"Since you weren't at assignments, you missed my invitation." Sara's brows furrow. "Well, really Lindsey's invitation. But I wanted you to hear it from me instead of one of the guys."

My daughter definitely caught me off guard yesterday during our dinner conversation. Just goes to show you should never try to predict the whimsies of a child, particularly not your own.

"Apparently she somehow picked up somewhere that houses are supposed to have parties. Well, more that people are supposed to have parties for their newly acquired houses." I smile thinking about to Lindsey's wording of her statements last night. "AKA the thing that us adults call a housewarming."

Sara's brows furrow even deeper.

"Long story short, she thought we hurt our house's feelings that we never threw it a party. Not sure she understands the actual purpose of a housewarming…but…"

I shrug. "This upcoming Saturday, if you're free, we're having a small group of people over around noon to cook out and just get together. Meet the neighbors, some of the parents from Lindsey's class, that sort of thing. I would love to have the team there if you guys can make it."

Sara's expression shifts slightly, the previous confusion changing to something much more unreadable now that the meaning behind my words becomes clear.

"Oh, I…"

She hesitates, clearly caught off guard.

"If you already have plans," I tell her, "that's fine. Don't feel pressured. I just know it would mean a lot to Lindsey if you were there, Sara."

I watch the confusion rising back into her expression.

"She keeps asking about the 'pretty friend' from dinner," I supply.

Sara looks away, but not quick enough to miss the light pink crawling up towards her ears.

"I'll…" she clears her throat. "I'll try my best to make it."

I nod, appreciating the brunette keeping an open mind. I know she likely isn't one for social gatherings in general, mostly seeming to keep to herself when it comes to outings such as these. But, furthermore, she isn't naive enough not to understand the added complexities of this particular gathering. Specifically, knowing me and my social circle, she is very aware of one particular guest whom will definitely also be in attendance. Someone she likely has many mixed feelings regarding seeing again.

But, as she picks her pen back up to resume her work, I can only hope that she and Kelly can perhaps someday reach a good place with one another. After all, this isn't likely to be the first nor the last time their paths will overlay.

"Let me know when the driver is ready for the interview."

Sara nods, "Of course."

Leaving, I head off to get some work done before we finally move forward again in the rave case.

* * *

"You went running again, didn't you?"

Sara glances up, lowering herself gently into the metal chair beside me.

"That obvious?" she questions quietly after a moment, likely debating whether to waste her breath denying it, and not wanting Brass to overhear from where he's waiting by the door.

"You're putting up a gallant effort," I offer, keeping my own voice low. "But yes, pretty damn obvious."

Sara lets out what sounds like a low curse.

"Why the hell are you trying to keep running on a clearly sprained ankle?" I get out, my own voice tight.

Having watched her closely as she walked with me to the interview room, I stayed a couple steps behind her towards the end to confirm what my eyes were telling me even while my brain was trying to convince me that no one could be that stupid. That stubborn.

But, no, apparently Sidle is.

"You're an idiot," I supply when Sara remains silent.

Snorting, the brunette simply leans into the interview table, tucking her ankle, the focus of this debacle, carefully under the chair.

"Noted."

Looking up, we hear the door open as our suspect is escorted in.

* * *

"What do you think?"

Sara gathers the papers in front of her, tucking them neatly back inside the casefile.

"He knows something."

"Everything?" I ask.

"Not sure," Sara answers my unspoken question. "Not convinced he's our killer."

"But…" I lead her to continue her thoughts.

Sara looks over, hazel eyes sharp with thought as she processes the information we gathered from this interview.

"But I think he knows who is."

I nod, working my way through my own judgments, ones that I'm glad to see mostly mirror my younger colleagues.

"Agreed," I respond, standing from the table. "Now we just need to figure out how to get him to talk."

Sara pushes upwards as well, suddenly grabbing for the table as she steps forward.

"Shit," she gets out, catching herself just before her buckling leg can send her to the floor.

"Sara," my voice is a mix of concern and frustration. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she answers quickly. "Just moved it too fast."

"This is ridiculous," I tell her sternly, watching as Brass glances at us curiously through the door from the hallway.

"I'm okay," she reassures me. "I just need a second to loosen it back up again."

"What you need are fucking crutches."

The look she sends me would send a weaker soul to their knees.

"Don't you dare glare at me, Sidle," I warn her. "Or I'll kick you in that damn ankle myself."

Smiling slightly, Sara tentatively tests increasing amounts of weight on her ankle, carefully letting go of the table when it seems better equipped to hold her weight this time around.

"See?" she says, eyes looking over at mine. "All good."

"You're an idiot."

"So you keep telling me."

Sara laughs lightly, and I can't help but realize this is perhaps one of the only and most genuine laughs I've ever heard from the brunette.

It sounds beautiful.

* * *

"You sure that's everything?"

Kelly smiles, sending me a look.

"I know, I know. I've asked you this like fifty times. I just feel like there's something we're forgetting."

"There's enough food here for three thousand people," Kelly tells me with a snort. "If we forgot something I don't think it'll much matter."

I groan in defeat, "Alright, you win."

Reaching over, I squeeze Kelly's shoulder.

"Thanks again for all your help. Couldn't have done it without you."

"Sure," Kelly shrugs off my thanks, glancing at her watch.

Then, seeing we're literally minutes away from the first guests arriving, her expression seems to falter slightly despite her best efforts to control it.

"I don't know if she's even coming," I tell my friend softly.

Kelly looks over, nodding quickly and rearranging the already arranged utensils.

"Hey," I reach out, stilling her hands with mine. "It'll be okay."

Kelly appears hesitant, looking away.

"You're both good people, Kelly," I tell her sincerely. "Neither you nor Sara is the type to be spiteful or hurtful. You'll both be civil, and you'll both hopefully get to a point where you can mutually move past this."

Squeezing her hands, I watch my best friend take a deep, calming breath.

"I hope you're right," she responds quietly.

* * *

"You're kidding?!" I laugh, eyes widening as I listen intently to the impossible sounding story Nick and Greg are sharing, giving me insight into times and memories before I entered their lives here in Vegas.

"Wish I was," Greg laughs. "But nope, I turn around, and Grissom is right there."

"Oh God," I laugh heartily, trying to imagine the look on Gil's face. "He probably had a stroke."

"He hid it well," Nick laughs himself. "But boy was Greggo here in for some tough times in the lab for the next couple months. And Grissom's samples mysteriously always seemed to be completed days ahead of everyone else's."

Cheeks blushing, the young lab tech shakes his head, half amused and half embarrassed.

I laugh again, enjoying this time to continue to bond with my new team members. While they have been nothing but welcoming to me since I started here, it's been hard to really get to know them within the walls of the labs. Especially since on the cases we work together I'm their supervisor.

I'm so glad they were able to come today, and I can't believe we've already been here for a couple hours, the time flying by as I've mingled back and forth between them and my other guests.

"Hey!" I hear Greg exclaim cheerfully, looking over my left shoulder. "'Bout time."

Turning around, I nearly do a double take as I see who's stepping into the room.

Dressed in light jeans and a dark sweater, I almost missed her in the crowd as she moves closer.

"Hey," she offers, her greeting much more subdued than Greg's as she gives everyone a soft smile.

"Sorry I'm late," she says to me when her eyes reach back to mine. "Something came up last minute that I had to take care of."

I shake my head, "It's fine, I'm just glad you could make it. Everything okay?" I ask regarding that last portion of her statement.

"Yeah," she deflects my concern. "This, uh, is for you."

I raise a brow, accepting the bottle of wine and the smaller, wrapped package from her in appreciation.

"Thanks," I tell her sincerely. "You didn't have to bring anything. That's very sweet of you."

"Nothing big," she tells me, a light pink discoloration moving towards her ears for the second time this week. "You can open it later."

Taking the hint, I nod, locking eyes with her before I move and place the package down for safe keeping until it can be opened away from the prying eyes of the rest of the team.

To say I'm intrigued would be an understatement.

"Hey Cath, where do you want the…"

The statement trails off, Kelly's steps immediately coming to a halt as she spots the group's new addition.

"Uh, where do you want the extra ice?" she continues, voice somewhat less steady as she tries to keep her tone even.

"In the freezer in the garage is fine," I answer, trying to keep my own expression neutral so the guys don't pick up on anything. "Need help?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Most is in there already, just wanted to confirm before I moved the rest."

I nod, watching as Kelly's eyes fall involuntarily to Sara's.

"I'll uh," Kelly swallows. "Go finish that."

Heading off, she disappears behind the small group gathered by the back of the house.

Seeing Sara's tension, I glance over at the nearby table.

"Sar, there's plenty of food and drinks left in the kitchen. Please help yourself."

Taking the appreciated out, Sara sends me a relieved nod as she excuses herself, moving to disappear into the opposite end of the house.

* * *

KELLY POV

Knowing I can't avoid it any longer, feeling like an immature teenager at the amount of time I've already avoided it so far, I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I exit the house to step out onto the back porch.

"This seat taken?"

Sara's head jerks up quickly, clearly having grown used to the relative quiet outside compared to all the laughter and voices flowing inside the house.

"No," she responds quietly, moving over to give me space on the step.

Sitting, I grow even more tense at the close proximity to her, even though we've literally rearranged ourselves to be as far apart as the steps allow.

She looks good.

It's my first thought, and I know it shouldn't be. That's not the healthiest thought to have about the person you turned away just a few weeks before.

But, I still have eyes. Seeing her formfitting jeans, the way they hug low to her hips, her soft, fitted sweater that emphasizes just how trim she is, her dark hair moving slightly in the gentle breeze where it lays past her shoulders...

But, then, my eyes move to her face, and seeing her dark, tense expression, it brings much less pleasant thoughts to the forefront.

It reminds me why I'm not allowed to have those other thoughts about Sara and how beautiful she is.

Not anymore.

"How have you been?" I ask her, knowing it's lame but wanting the answer all the same.

"Fine," she says predictably. "Yourself?"

I consider brushing off the question like Sara clearly did, but instead I go with honesty.

"Not so good."

Sara's jaw tightens, the brunette taking a sip of what looks like hard cider.

"Which is why I'm surprised that you're fine," I tell her. "Since you're the one with every reason not to be."

Swallowing tightly, she glances down, picking at the label on the amber bottle.

"What does it matter?" she asks quietly. "If I'm fine or not."

"It matters to me."

Letting out a breath, I shake my head.

"You wanted me to make an informed decision, Sara," I state quietly. "And then you did the bravest and most selfless thing I have ever witnessed by telling me everything you did. I can't thank you or express to you enough how much I respect that, respect you."

Sara stiffens, and I hope she gives me the opportunity to say this, worried she'll get up and walk away at any minute.

"I made my decision, yes," I tell her openly. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. There are a lot of ways to care about someone, and it's not conditional to being in a relationship with them."

Sara's gaze is dark as it bores into the step below us.

"Is this the 'let's be friends' speech?" she questions.

"This is the 'we're still human beings, still two people who share a connection' speech. One that I don't want to turn my back on because a relationship won't work between us. There are a lot of different ways to keep the people that you care about in your life. And yes, one of those ways is friendship."

I sigh.

"Look, Sara, I know it isn't my place to even be the one discussing this. I can't imagine how hurt you must be by my decision. To have opened up to someone only to have them turn away from you. I know how hard it is for you to open up at all, let alone to the extent that you did with me."

"You don't know," Sara corrects me. "You don't know me at all."

"Is that why you aren't interested in friendship?" I ask. "Because you're afraid now that I actually _do_ know you too well? And it scares you?"

Sara is so tense that I'm not surprised when she pushes herself to her feet. But, I am surprised when I see the brunette wince as she grabs for the railing, I reach forward with concern before I realize what I'm doing.

Her violent flinch away from me brings everything into focus and into a stillness that's almost suffocating.

Immediately pulling my hand away from her, I step back, both of us now standing on opposite ends of the step.

"You learned things about me," Sara gets out tensely. "And you decided based on those things that I wasn't girlfriend material. Don't now offer me friendship as some sort of consolation prize, Kelly. If you don't want me in your life, that's fine. I'm a big girl who can handle it. I don't want your pity."

"Sara," I breathe out, both shocked and hurt at her words. At the message beneath them.

"God, Sara," I continue when I find my voice. "Why do you think I said no to you regarding a relationship?" I question directly, almost afraid to hear her answer.

But, instead, she remains silent.

"Damn it, Sara," I get out.

I step forward, not caring that I'm entering her personal space.

"I don't see you as damaged goods, Sidle," I bite out tightly, having thought I laid that particular concern to rest when we had our initial conversation. "How could you even think that?"

Sara's head shakes angrily.

"No," I cut her off. "You're going to listen to me right now. I said no because of my limitations, not yours. Hearing everything you shared with me, I realized it wasn't fair to you for me to continue on the road we were going."

I lower my voice.

"You deserve someone who can love you and support you in the ways that you deserve. Someone who isn't prone to running when things get tough. Someone who is strong enough to stand by you through it all, and not avoid the hard truths because they can't stand to see you hurting."

I shake my head, wishing I could reach out to her the way I want to.

"I know my personality, Sara," I tell her. "You'd spend our whole lives together protecting me, bringing me strength and comfort. Meanwhile, I'd spend them hating all the people that ever hurt you, all the things you've been through, and I'd hate myself for every time I avoided something that's hurting _you_ because the thought of it is just too much for me. We'd grow resentful, frustrated, we'd grow apart until there was nothing left."

I sigh in frustration, not sure I'm really even making sense anymore.

Her eyes are angry when the meet mine.

"You seem to have a crystal ball that tells you exactly what our relationship would've been," Sara says tightly. "Must be nice. Because all I saw that night was someone giving up before we even started."

Straightening to her full height, she looks at me.

"And, all I see now is someone convincing herself of all the reasons we would've failed before we even tried. I see someone who's trying to give herself all these other excuses because she doesn't want to admit to herself the real reason she said no. Which is the fact that the things you learned about me scared you, Kelly. And that the person you found out I was scared you even more. Simple as that."

Her gaze is even with mine, hazel eyes burning into my own.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

When I'm silent, she nods quietly.

My silence all the confirmation she needs.

It's poignant, it's finally honest, and has my heart feeling like it's being ripped out of my chest.

"That's why I shared those things, Kelly," Sara says sincerely. "To give you the respect of letting you decide for yourself how it made you feel. I just wish you could have given me the respect of being honest about those feelings. I don't need your pity, your fake excuses to spare me from the truth. The person you found out I was scares you. The person you found out I was isn't someone you would want to have as a partner. It is was it is."

She pauses, letting out a long breath.

"I understand that we'll be in each other's lives whether we want to be or not. And I'm not saying no to your offer of at least being in each other's lives as friends versus whatever the hell this cold formality is between us now," she states. "But even friendship will be off the table for me if you're going to keep lying to me like you just tried to do. Friendship is not a relationship, but I still expect my friends to not lie right to my face."

Head lowering, I shake it tightly, ashamed. Ashamed that she's right, ashamed that she saw right through my own excuses. Excuses that were likely more to convince myself as they were to convince her anyway.

Ashamed that her revelations _did _scare me. That this person standing before me, this beautiful and noble person, harbors secrets and demons so dark and horrifying that it does, deep down, frighten me.

I'm honestly not sure if the fear is founded in a fear of her, or a fear for her.

Either way, I was a coward, and I ran from someone before I even gave them a chance. And, having made that decision up front, there's no going back with Sara. A decision like that can never be remade.

I can only pray that Sara can accept my offer to want to be friends, to keep her in my life in a special way even if it's not as a girlfriend or partner as I'd originally allowed myself to hope for.

"I don't want to lose you in my life," I tell her sincerely, letting her see straight through my eyes to everything that's underneath. "You have been nothing but honest with me since we met, about everything. You deserve the same from me, and going forward you have my word that that's exactly what you'll get."

Watching me, Sara eventually nods, pulling up straighter to step back onto the porch.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Kelly," Sara says quietly. "I'll see you around."

As she exits back into the house, I let out a shaking breath, eyes shutting tightly as I feel the weight of this conversation still hanging in the air around me.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 28

_"When we are sure that we are on the right road there is no need to plan our journey too far ahead. No need to burden ourselves with doubts and fears as to the obstacles that may bar our progress. We cannot take more than one step at a time." _

_-Orison Marden_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

As Greg comments on Nick's latest story, Sara quietly steps up to join us, the brunette taking a slow drink from the bottle in her hand.

"Guys, try not to scare Catherine away," she smiles slightly. "These stories you've been sharing for apparently the last hour are probably inspiring her to buy plane tickets back to Montana."

Laughing, I shake my head, "No fear of that," I state honestly. "You guys have been amazing, and there is no regret anywhere to be found. Though, I'm a bit concerned to leave my locker unattended after that last story. You boys seem like quite the pranksters."

"Boys?" Greg laughs. "Yeah right. It's not us boys you have to worry about. You should see this one here..."

Gesturing to Sara with his drink, he shakes his head.

"Sara's by far the worst out of all of us. She and Gabe used to always..."

His words catching up to his ears, Greg immediately stops what he's saying, color leaving his cheeks.

"Shit, Sara..." Cringing, he shakes his head. "I didn't mean to..."

Trailing off, he looks at his friend nervously.

It's easy sometimes to forget that this team just recently lost one of its members. They are always so professional and kind, having welcomed me with open arms and working cases with me like it's just another day at the office. It's sometimes easy for me to forget the reason I joined them in the first place. The colleague and friend they barely laid to rest at the cemetery that's not even a mile from the lab.

And, having worked most of my cases with Sara, it's especially surprising that I don't think of Gabe more often. He was, after all, her partner. Well, the CSI version at least. CSIs don't have partners per se, not like cops do. They rotate who they work with and don't have one single CSI they share all cases with. It helps spark new theories, new ideas between CSIs.

But, I know Gil's management style, and I know he recognizes good pairings when he sees them. Just like I did in Montana. While everyone generally works well together, there are certain combinations of your CSIs that work especially well together. Certain people that, when paired, have higher solve rates and quicker turn around times. Certain people that simply work together particularly efficiently, minds and approaches blending together nearly flawlessly. When you are lucky enough to get one of those pairings, you tend to place them together more often than not. It helps you, it helps your lab, it helps your solve rates, and most importantly it helps your victims.

Having reviewed Sara and Gabe's files, it was clear to me very early on that Gabe and Sara were one of those pairings. Gil placed them together more often than any other CSIs. And, with good reason. Alone, their solve rates were outstanding. Together, they were nearly improbable.

"It's fine," Sara says, working hard to hide the tension in her voice. Reaching out, she squeezes Greg's arm gently. "Really, Greggo. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?" he asks. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood."

"I'm sure," Sara sends him a smile. "And, it's not fair to Gabe to pretend like he didn't exist. He was, and still is, a part of this family. We owe it to him to remember him. Even all those ridiculous jokes he insisted on pulling on you gullible people."

Greg laughs, a lot of the tension leaving at the sound. "Alright, deal. I still stand by my statement, though, that you're the worst of all of us."

"Me?" Sara asks innocently, though I can see as clear as anyone the glint in her eye.

Just like it's hard to remember sometimes that this team lost someone close, it's harder to remember that Sara perhaps wasn't always as stoic and guarded as I know her to be. That I came into her life at a time when the brunette's world was falling apart around her. That there was this whole period before then when she was here, with her team, and was presumably happy.

I know Grissom has been pairing me with Sara a lot lately for a couple reasons. I know he doesn't want to break up the other partnerships the team had made with Sara and Gabe being paired up. He's hoping that Sidle and I also form a cohesive and successful pair, perhaps someday getting to the level she and Gabe were at. But, I suspect part of it is also to give Sara the opportunity to be with someone neutral, someone who doesn't remind her of Gabe like the guys would.

Sara and I have our own troubled background drama to work through, and in some ways perhaps that's been a good thing as it's diverted focus from the other changes in the brunette's life.

"I believe it," I shake myself from my thoughts, sending Sara a playful wink when she looks over at me in surprise. "It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

Sara watches me for a moment before letting out a small smile, shoulders relaxing just a little bit.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and find out."

Smiling, I nod, hoping that the day does indeed come when I see Sara Sidle without so many of her walls.

* * *

"You have a beautiful home," Sara says as she turns in the doorway. "Thanks again for inviting me."

"Of course," I nod. "Thanks for coming."

"I uh, I guess I'll see you at work tomorrow."

She fiddles anxiously with her keys, clearly feeling as uncertain as I am in this moment. While it was natural to hug the guys goodnight before they left, Sara and I aren't exactly the hugging type. Well, more like Sara isn't exactly the hugging type.

"Goodnight, Sara," I settle for instead, reaching out and gently squeezing her shoulder. "Get home safely."

She nods, looking relieved to be done with this awkward goodbye.

Quickly descending the porch, she doesn't look back as she gets in her Jeep and drives off.

Letting out a long breath, I turn around to face the messes waiting for me to clean up.

* * *

"Not too bad," I mutter, dropping down to the couch with a relieved sigh. About an hour and a half worth of hard work and my house looks reasonably put back together. And, the few things left can definitely wait until tomorrow.

Now that Lindsey's been put to bed, it's the first moments of silence I've had all day. And, I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.

Reaching over, I grab a pillow from the couch and place it behind me. Leaning back, I lift my legs onto the coffee table and let out a long breath.

Just as I'm closing my eyes, they catch on the item tucked away on the top shelf that I'd nearly forgotten about in all the rush to get everything cleaned up.

Immediately, I'm on my feet, taking the wine bottle and its accompanying package in my hands. Separating the bottle from the package, I move back to the couch.

The package is relatively small, but big enough for me to use both hands to hold it. Looking at the simple paper packaging, I raise a brow.

Deciding that the package isn't going to open itself and no longer able to take the mystery, I tear carefully into the paper. As I remove the last of the wrappings, the back of a wooden frame comes into view. Furrowing my brows, I turn the frame over.

And, immediately, my heart catches in my chest.

Eyes trying to take in the sight before me, I feel my brain working to form thoughts, words. Anything.

Fingers reaching out, I gingerly touch the dark black and grey lines displayed along the picture's surface.

"Holy shit," I whisper.

Reaching over, I notice for the first time the light yellow post-it sticking out from the side of the frame.

_"Sometimes running in the middle of nowhere has its benefits. Welcome to Nevada. ~S"_

Eyes moving from the post-it back to the picture, I take in the stunning scenery depicted along the framed canvas. The deep black lines that seem to dance along the mountain ranges in the background, becoming even more striking as they merge into the canyon walls near the foreground of the picture, all blending together to reach the majestic blossoming desert tree along the far right.

The strokes of black are strong, confident, and absolutely surreal in their ability to capture this gorgeous scene that is so crisp and realistic that it almost looks like a photograph.

But, I know it isn't. And, having been to Sara's apartment and seen the artwork displayed along her own walls, I know it's not a photograph at all. It's hand painted, and hand painted by the artist I always suspected was responsible for her own stunning home décor.

Sure enough, so small that you would almost miss it, is a gentle "SCS" signed in the bottom corner. Fingers moving of their own accord, I gently trace the letters.

"God, Sar..."

I shake my head, not knowing words adequate enough.

* * *

"Hey," Sara glances behind me in surprise. "Everything okay?"

Seeing the empty hallway behind me, she grows even more nervous.

"Is Lindsey alright?"

"She's fine," I answer to calm Sara's worried expression. "Kelly's still at the house, spending the night so we could take our time cleaning up."

"Oh," Sara states, looking slightly less worried, but still very confused as to why the hell I am standing at her doorway in the middle of the night.

"I didn't even hug you goodbye."

Sara's eyebrow raises, first one, then the other. "What?"

"I opened your present, Sara."

Trying to keep up with my random statements, Sara slowly shakes her head in confusion, though now looking slightly more hesitant to meet my gaze.

"I wasn't sure what to get you... nothing at the store seemed right... so...". Sara shrugs, shoulders tense. "I decided to share my favorite spot in Nevada... though I'm not sure the black and white does it justice...I probably should have used color for it... but I wasn't sure what colors you even liked..."

"Sara."

Sara goes still, head lowering as she stops her words from continuing.

"It's perfect."

Looking up, she searches my gaze, and damn her, she looks like she's trying to figure out if I'm lying.

"Sara Sidle. It's perfect. It's so fucking perfect that I drove here in the middle of the night to tell you how damn perfect it was."

Cheeks reddening, she turns her head slightly to the side. "I won't be offended if you don't want to put it up. More of a gesture than anything."

"Dear God, Sidle," I shake my own head in disbelief. "If you even continue that statement I will drag you to Desert Palms to get a hearing check. And sanity check. Did you not hear the part about it being perfect?"

"Sorry," she mumbles. "I heard...I just..."

"You've never shared your work with anyone before?" I take a guess.

Her eyes hold the answer.

If her gift didn't feel incredibly special and cherished to me before, it does even more so now.

"Thank you."

I shake my head at the inadequate words.

"It means a lot, Sara."

"You didn't have to drive all the way here to -"

"Just shut up and say you're welcome," I laugh, wondering when Sidle is going to stop being so damn polite and noble. But, knowing what I know of her, it isn't likely to happen anytime soon. I get the feeling that it's just simply who she is.

And, it's beyond endearing.

"Sara..." I hesitate, slowly feeling some of my own confidence leaving me as I look at Sara, standing in her doorway in an old Harvard t-shirt and pair of boxers, the brunette possibly having been woken from a rare night's sleep because I couldn't let my thank you sentiments wait until work tomorrow. "I hope I didn't wake you."

Sara smiles slightly, "You didn't."

"Do you ever sleep?" I question seriously.

She pauses, seeming to work her way through her possible responses.

Eventually, she shrugs. "Not really."

Her eyes are heavy when they meet mine, so much unspoken behind their greens and browns.

I want to ask her why. I want to reach out to her, figure out why she's so haunted. Why she's doing this to herself when she clearly needs rest. What demons she's trying, unsuccessfully, to run from.

But, I can't. Not yet.

Instead, I settle on the one gesture I feel perhaps I can do.

"I didn't hug you goodbye," I repeat my earlier words. "And then I opened your amazing gift, and I felt like an ass."

Sara looks at me, before suddenly letting out a light laugh.

"Really?" she questions. "These are the things you worry about?"

"I hugged all the guys," I explain. "And none of them gave me the most beautiful hand painted picture of the desert I've ever seen."

Sara smiles, "So if the picture sucked, then what? No hug?"

I smack her in the arm lightly, "Sidle, just shut up and let me hug you."

Still smiling slightly, Sara steps away from the doorframe, allowing me to move forward and close the distance between us.

Without another moment's hesitation, I wrap my arms around her. Holding her tightly, I feel her finally return the gesture, her arms placing themselves around me.

Resting my head along her shoulder, I notice the smell of her fabric softener, the feel of her strong back twitching slightly where my arms make contact, the softness of her dark hair where it brushes against my cheek, the firm thinness of her frame, the warmth of her body where it meets with mine.

I notice all of it.

"Thank you."

Sara doesn't answer my whispered words, likely not sure whether this particular thanks is referring to the picture or the hug.

Holding her close, I try to take in this moment, the feel of having her in my arms.

With everything that's gone on between Sara and I, and everything that's yet to, I know I'm not guaranteed to ever get a moment like this again.

So, for now, I'll simply cherish this one. And, I'll silently pray it's not the last.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks as always to everyone who takes the time to read and review – your guys' words are beyond appreciated. This chapter is a bit longer than usual - hopefully no one minds.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 29

"_Whatever there be of progress in life comes not through adaptation but through daring, through obeying the blind urge."_

_Henry Miller_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"How long have we been out here?"

"A long time."

"I mean, really, why call us to a scene when they haven't even cleared it yet?" I breathe out tightly. "Now we have to stand here waiting for God knows how long until they're done."

"Mmm hmm."

"There are so many other things I could be doing right now. Paperwork from about thirty open cases comes to mind."

"Uh huh."

"Then there's just the principle of the matter. We could be working other scenes. Could be fielding other calls. But no, we're stuck here."

"Mm hm."

I turn, looking over at my companion.

"Sidle, are you even listening?"

Glancing up from her phone, she raises a brow.

"Of course I am."

Seeing her expression, I smile lightly, some of the anger leaving me.

Putting her phone away in the back pocket of her jeans, Sara straightens up slightly along her place against the hood of the Tahoe we're leaning against.

"Why call us when the scene's not cleared, thirty open cases, principle of the matter, fielding other calls, stuck here." Sara's eyes stay on mine. "Anything I missed?"

I snort, "Alright, point taken. You're good at multitasking."

Sara smiles slightly, turning her gaze towards the desert trail where our scene lies on the other side of, watching the movement of the flashlights of the cops.

"I try to pay attention when my supervisors speak. Has served me well in my career so far."

I laugh, taking a deep breath to recenter myself.

"Sorry," I offer after I've mostly calmed down. "I didn't mean to be ranting, I'm just frustrated. But, it's not your fault, and you shouldn't have to listen to complaints that have nothing to do with you."

Sara only shrugs, not commenting one way or another.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I try to shield myself from the brisk wind as a new gust comes through the valley.

"If you're cold we can wait inside the Tahoe."

"This scene is a lot further out in the middle of nowhere than Gil led on, I don't want to use up extra gas running the heater. And, without it, the car's probably just as cold as it is out here."

Sara nods, brows furrowing slightly as she watches me hunch tighter against another breeze whipping through the canyon.

Leaning forward, she pulls her sweater from her arms, lifting it over her head in one smooth motion.

"Here."

"Sara, no…" I immediately shake my head. "I'm not taking your sweater and leaving you in your t-shirt."

"And I'm not standing here watching you shivering all shift," Sara counters, sending me a look. "It's just a sweater, Catherine. Take it."

"You have to be freezing…"

"I'm fine."

I narrow my eyes.

"The cold doesn't bother me," she tries again.

Pushing the grey sweater closer to me, she all but presses it into my shoulder.

"I'm not putting it back on. So either you wear it or it'll sit unused in the Tahoe."

I shake my head, "You play dirty, Sidle."

Sara shrugs, not looking apologetic in the least.

"You sure?"

"Take the damn sweater." She lets out a small smile, tone softening. "Please."

I take the offered item, quickly pulling the soft material over my head. While I had a long sleeve blouse on, the thicker woolen material of the sweater immediately does a much better job of blocking out the offensive wind.

Plus, it's still warm from its previous owner.

"Thank you," I tell Sara sincerely.

"Sure," she brushes off the thanks, eyes again focusing on the moving lights ahead of us.

It's been just over a week since my housewarming party. And, while the world didn't suddenly shift on its axis because Sara and I finally shared a hug, no matter how wonderful of a hug it was, I can tell that our relationship has definitely changed.

Sara's still quiet around me, but instead of a thick and tense quiet, the quiet now holds an almost peaceful undertone to it. Not a quiet you feel the need to fill, nor is awkward or oppressive. These silences are just that – silent, calm moments in a world otherwise filled with noise and chaos.

I know better than to think Sara and I are completely okay – that our relationship is now uncomplicated. It's still complicated, but in a different way that's finally less wrought with tension. We're both still figuring the other person out, but at least now we're doing it with hearts that feel more open – more thoughtful and less distrustful.

For the first time it feels like Sara may not be completely closed off to me, a lost cause locked behind too many iron walls. There are still walls, but there's now also rare, brief glimpses of the woman behind them. The woman whom I can't wait to hopefully finally start to get to know better.

Standing up to her full height, Sara gestures towards the hill.

"They're moving closer, I think we're about to get our go ahead."

"Finally."

Sara sends me a small smile, shaking her head as she pushes away from the car.

* * *

"This looks familiar."

Sara nods, remaining quiet as seems to be her style for a lot of the cases we've worked together. Offering insights when needed, but not filling the air with unnecessary words.

My own eyes take in the victim, lying face down in the desert sand. The area is deserted, surrounded by high rock canyons just like it was last time. But, instead of evidence of a lot of company, like there obviously was at the rave, there's barely any disturbances to the ground around us.

"I don't think this was another rave," I conclude.

Sara nods, her expression telling me she already came to that same conclusion.

"But it's related," she tells me.

When I look over, she gestures to the deceased's arm.

"Black light tattoos."

Leaning down closer to the body, Sara takes a few photos, eyes roaming over the surrounding area.

"Did they say why it took so long to clear the scene?"

Her tone is strange, slightly tense but controlled. Like she's trying _not _to sound tense.

"Lot of ground to cover, I suppose, to make sure there's no one else here."

This scene, like the last one, is essentially in the middle of the desert – very few paths or roads leading up to it, but a whole lot of desolate desert surrounding it. Desert that has hills and mountains and overall rough terrain to try to cover.

Looking around us, Sara glances back down to the body before she again glances towards the canyon walls off to our right.

"Sara?"

She swallows, body tense as she looks through her camera, keeping it by her waist and trying to be subtle about what she's doing.

"Sara."

Moving closer to her, I note the way she immediately changes her positioning so that she is again standing between myself and the mountain face, eyes focused on her camera's screen which I can now see is zoomed all the way in to get a closer look along the ridgeline. She's looking for something.

Or, someone.

"Sara."

Glancing up at me briefly, Sara focuses towards the cops who have retreated back to their cars, standing there in case we need them, but clearly focused elsewhere, now far away enough that they can barely be made out in the dim lighting of the early morning.

"The bullet passed through the vic, it's lodged in the rocks beside him," Sara says, gesturing with her shoulder behind her. "The bullet is from a sniper style rifle."

I raise a brow, glancing back over at the body.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

If she's right, and knowing Sara's unrivaled intellegence I have no doubt she's right, this scene takes on a whole new angle. And, now it's clear to me why she's scanning the nearby ridgelines. It's eerie thinking that if someone was up there with a scope, they may still very well be there. Watching us.

Aiming at us.

"Someone lured him out here…" Sara says tightly, not needing to finish the rest of the statement as I take in the discarded motorbike nearby.

"Probably set up a meeting at this location," I continue her unspoken train of thought in agreement. "He thinks he's arrived first, not realizing the person he's meeting is actually already here, set up in the ridgeline to take him out."

There's one tire trail leading away from the vic's motorbike, and now I know not to expect another.

"Sara."

I hate the sound of my voice, the nervousness that's betrayed in my tone. I'm the superior here - if one of us is going to lose their composure, it sure as hell cannot be me.

"We need to get back to the car," I state. "We hold tight until the sun is higher and we have some decent light. I want all these ridgelines canvassed before any of our people gets ambushed in here. We're sitting ducks down in this canyon."

Sara doesn't move, her body stiff as she slowly lowers her camera from her scan of the area, trying to look like she's taking a picture of something near the ground.

"Sidle…"

Shaking her head, Sara's back is rigid, her body so tense that she's nearly immobile.

"Too late. We have company."

"Shit," I keep my voice low, knowing better than to look where she was scanning the ridgeline just moments before.

Instead, I move slightly forward, watching as Sara immediately shadows my movements, like she knows what I'm thinking before I say anything.

Keeping her body in front of mine, she kneels down, pretending to take a close up of something on the ground as I kneel next to her, placing an evidence marker into the sand.

"How many?"

"One that I could see."

I keep my expression steady, pretending to document something as I pull out an evidence bag.

Reaching into her vest for tweezers, Sara picks up our nonexistent evidence, placing it in the bag I hold open for her.

"How do you want to play this?" she asks quietly, keeping her head angled away from the mountain.

"We have two options," I answer, keeping my expression stoic. "We head slowly back to the car, try not to tip him off that we saw him. That we're heading back for another reason. Or, we keep going, waiting until he leaves. If he was going to shoot, he would've done it by now. Seems more like he wants to watch and see what we find."

Sara looks down, taking a few more photos.

"I'll follow your orders," she looks up, eyes steady as they meet mine. "However you want to do this, I'm with you."

I want to reach out to her, take her arm, do something, anything, to communicate what I want to tell her right now. Appreciation for her words, the loyalty and bravery that's behind them. We've barely worked a dozen scenes together, and she's willing to follow my command when it matters most. When our lives literally depend on it. That type of trust is a lot to ask of anyone, but it's particularly a lot to ask of Sara.

But, I can't say anything – not now. Instead, I hope my eyes convey my unspoken sentiments of gratitude for me.

"Working the scene could take hours. We have officers who could unknowingly wander into the line of fire. We need to get back to the car where we can warn them without tipping this guy off. We're open targets down here, he could easily pick us off one by one if he decides. We can't just sit here waiting."

Sara nods, pretending to point to something on the ground as she meets my eyes.

"I'm ready when you are."

Holding her gaze, I nod, taking a chance as I reach over as if I'm trying to get a better view of a picture she took on her camera's screen.

Instead of holding the camera, however, I place my hand over hers where it rests on the dark metal. We stand together, pretending to look closely at the screen.

Squeezing her fingers tightly in mine, I try to convey all I can in that one gesture.

Then, I separate from her, moving to gesture towards the car as if we forgot something and need to head back.

Sara nods, playing along stoically.

I make it about ten feet before a single, deafening shot rings out through the canyon.

Immediately, I'm dropped to the ground, a weight pressing down on me before I feel myself moving without my control. It takes me a moment to realize I'm being dragged along the sandy ground.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, another shot rings out, and I can hear yells coming from the distance as a rock just off to my right explodes into a cloud of dust, shattered pieces raining down around me.

My body is pushed quickly, falling to my right as I am now facedown on the ground, the constant weight on my back.

Another shot rings out, echoing through the canyon.

Feeling the weight above me slowly lift, I turn, noting the large rock directly behind me that's currently providing shelter.

Then, I notice Sara finish pushing herself off me.

"Shit," I curse, my brain finally starting to catch up with everything. Seeing the boulder that's cutting us off from the ridgeline, I glance at my companion.

"You okay?" I ask frantically.

"Yeah," she nods, breathing tight. "You?"

I nod, "Thanks to you," I tell her sincerely, gesturing to our current location that Sara all but dragged me to, probably saving my life as her instincts kicked in perfectly before mine even knew what was happening. Not to mention the young woman diving on top of me to get me down and shelter my body with her own.

"You sure you weren't hit?" I ask her again, beyond appreciative of her actions but hating how she's kept insisting on putting herself between me and this damn madman's line of fire ever since she realized our situation.

Another shot rings out, sending rock dust skittering down around us.

"Our guys are too far out of this canyon to get a shot," I note, noticing the absence of return fire. "To get in position they would be putting themselves right in this guy's crosshairs."

Sara nods, pulling out her own weapon as I do the same.

Right now, we're on our own.

Hearing another crack of a bullet and feeling the rock we're using as shelter literally exploding as more pieces of sharp grey stone rain around us, I shake my head.

"This rock isn't going to hold out much longer. We need to get where our guys are and out of this man's line of sight."

Sara nods, "I can give you cover."

"No," I immediately counter. "We do this together. I'm not leaving you here."

Sara opens her mouth, but is silenced by my hand literally placing itself against her mouth to silence her.

"I'm not arguing this, Sidle," I tell her tightly. "We're in this together. We get out of it together. Both of us."

When I've gotten my point across, I remove my hand, watching as Sara clenches her jaw tightly and turns slightly away.

"Shit," I curse as rock explodes around us, pieces hitting us as they fly through the air, our boulder taking its most violent hit yet.

"You okay?" I ask, watching as Sara moves slightly closer to me as I notice for the first time that the portion of the rock near her shoulder is completely gone, all but incinerated after that last blast.

"Yeah," she gets out, shaking her head as I see her free hand rub at her ear. The blast was nearly deafening for me, and I'm not the one who was right next to it. I would bet Sara's right ear is definitely ringing right now.

Reaching out, I turn her head towards mine.

Sure enough, there's dust and debris covering the right side of her face, down to her shoulder and trailing off towards her hip.

"You good?" I ask her, knowing how badly your balance can be affected when your ears are out of whack.

She nods, shaking her head one last time to clear it as she checks her weapon.

Confirming safeties are off and guns are loaded, she looks at me.

Not knowing what my body is doing before it's already happening, I reach out to pull her towards me by her shirt collar. With my free arm, I embrace her tightly, placing a gentle kiss into her debris ridden hair.

Pulling back, her gaze holds mine as she nods at me with understanding.

"Ready?" I ask.

Swallowing tightly, she gives me a small smile.

"No time like the present I suppose."

Taking her lead, we both move so that we're crouching on our feet, poised and ready to make a break for it.

"On three."

As soon as I reach one, Sara and I leap to our feet, our weapons ringing out into the cold air as we shoot blindly towards the ridge line as we run as fast as we can towards the end of the canyon walls. Towards safety.

There's more than one echoing shot back in our direction, and it's all I can do to keep my gun up and firing as I just keep running.

As I reach the exit from the canyon, I keep running until I reach the safety of our Tahoe, parked directly behind the police cars that now hold multiple officers yelling orders and commands into their radios, doors open as they take shelter behind them, guns pointed towards the canyon entrance.

Skidding down behind our SUV, I reach out and pull Sara down next to me before the brunette can get any ideas of joining our guys.

There's nothing more for us to do, we're CSIs after all, and this is now the responsibility of Vegas PD.

Breathing heavily, I try to get in enough air, feeling my hands shaking as I try to put the safety back on my weapon. The last thing I need is to make it out of a firefight only to shoot myself in the foot because I'm trembling so bad I can barely keep my arm still.

Seeing Sara next to me doing the same, we both try to catch our breaths, the voices of the cops nearly falling into the background as they continue to yell into their radios for backup.

"You okay?" Sara gets out, coughing slightly as she tries to slow her breathing.

"Yes," I answer, feeling enough places stinging to know I've definitely got some scrapes and bruises, but I'll gladly take that over what could've happened. "You?"

Sara nods, her eyes roaming over me to confirm I'm alright before she closes her eyes, head leaning back to land soundly against the Tahoe.

Reaching over, I place my hand on her thigh, fingers grabbing the material of her jeans tightly to ensure that she's here, that she's safe. That we both escaped this nightmare intact.

* * *

It feels like a lifetime before backup arrives, cop car after cop car skidding into the valley and police officers organizing themselves to be able to make their way towards the shooter.

Though, I suspect he's long gone by now. It's one thing to take cheap shots when you're the only one at a gun fight with a sniper rifle. It's another when you're faced with cops with equal artillery and bullet proof shielding.

When our portion of the scene is almost vacant as everyone has pressed forward towards the shooter, I look over at my companion who's been silent.

"I think the EMS is here," I state, noting the new sirens and the calls over the radio. "We should probably get checked out."

Sara nods slightly, letting me know she heard me, but makes no move to get up.

It's strange, but I find myself reluctant to leave my position as well. While we realistically can't stay here, sitting here next to Sara right now is the safest I've felt all day. I don't want to get up. I don't want us to be separated as we are each pulled away to give our statements. I want to stay here, right here with Sara, where I know it's finally safe.

But, unfortunately, it's not possible.

Holstering my weapon, I squeeze Sara's leg before removing my hand, pulling myself to my feet. Groaning as my muscles protest the move, I let myself assess the damage. Definitely some angry scrapes along my arms, but the thick material of Sara's sweater and my jeans seem to have held off any more serious damage. Another thing I have to thank Sara for. Noting a few scrapes along my hands and face, I shake my head.

We came so close tonight…

Unable to finish the thought, I glance down.

"Can you stand?" I ask Sara, holding out my hand towards the brunette who's still leaning her head back against the car door with her eyes closed.

Taking a deep breath, Sara nods, lifting her gaze to mine before she pulls herself up.

Looking her over, I see that she fared similarly to myself, definitely a lot of scrapes and bruises, and her previously injured ankle that doesn't look like it appreciated the impromptu workout she just gave it.

"Turn your head," I request, trying to get a better view of her right side that took the brunt of the shot that hit our rock shelter.

Reaching out, I gently angle her chin to the side, getting a view of the side of her head.

"Damn it," I mutter, seeing the scraping along her face that likely matches mine. But, what has me concerned is that some of the blood isn't coming from the grazes, it's coming from inside her ear itself, trailing slowly down her neck where it soaks into her t-shirt.

"I know," she tells me, eyes lifting to mine as she shakes her head again slightly, like she's still trying to get her head to focus.

"Your ear ringing?" I question, knowing mine are definitely buzzing, not only from the sniper shots close to us, but also our own weapons discharging multiple times in close proximity as we tried to create cover for our escape from the canyon.

She nods, hand reaching up to rub her ear.

"Stop, honey," I tell her, moving her hand back down. "It's bleeding a bit, and I think we need to not touch it right now."

Swallowing, Sara nods, and I note how she keeps closing her eyes.

"Are you dizzy?" I question, noting she's acting like Lindsey does when she's ridden on the merry go round too many times and is trying not to throw up.

"A little," Sara answers, all she's willing to admit to.

Dragging her eyes back open, she sees my concern.

"I'm fine, Catherine," she assures me. "I promise."

Looking her over, I let out a shaky breath, trying to steady myself and keep myself that way. I can't fall apart. Not here. Not now.

Reaching forward, I pull Sara towards me, embracing her tightly as this is my first opportunity to truly do so properly, and may be the only one for a while as we are about to be sent in a thousand different directions after the events at this scene. There's going to be statements, debriefings, and about a dozen other things to do.

Holding her tightly, I feel her reach around me to do the same, her chin coming to rest atop my head.

While I wanted our prior hug at her apartment to not be the last, this isn't in a thousand years what I wanted the circumstances to be when we did hug again. I wouldn't have wished this on anyone, ever.

"I'm glad you're okay, Catherine," she tells me quietly, voice soft and sincere.

"Me too," I respond. Holding her tighter, I grip the cotton material of her shirt in my hands. "Thank you for doing what you did, Sara. You probably saved my life back there getting me down and behind that rock."

I shake my head.

"But, I never want you to place my life before yours like that again."

Pulling back slightly, I keep our bodies connected while our heads separate so she can see my eyes.

"Do you understand me?"

Sara swallows, looking away.

"Do you understand me, Sara?"

She's quiet, too quiet.

"My life isn't more important than yours," I tell her sternly.

"You have Lindsey-"

"Don't," I warn her. "Don't you dare. Yes, I'm a mother. But that doesn't make me more valuable than you. You deserve to make it home alive at the end of the day just as much as I do."

I move one of my hands from her back to lay it along the uninjured side of her face.

"No more of this self-sacrificing bullshit, Sidle. First with Gabe, now me. God knows who else. You need to stop acting like you're expendable."

Sara's jaw is tight, her head lowering under my words.

"You're not expendable, Sara." I tilt her head back up until her eyes reach mine. "Not to me."

* * *

"Jesus, Cath," Kelly curses, pushing herself to her feet as she greets me in the lab's lobby. Eyes roaming over the scrapes along my skin, she grimaces. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I called Kelly from the station when it became clear that I was going to need a ride home tonight, Lindsey thankfully on a school trip.

I knew I freaked out my friend when the conversation started with "Kel, I promise I'm okay, but there was an incident at work..."

That is not a call anyone ever wants to get from a loved one.

"I'm good," I tell her. "Sore as hell, but damn happy that's all I am."

Pulling me into a hug, Kelly holds me close.

"Sometimes I hate what you do," she tells me. "This is one of those times."

"Hey, cheer up," I laugh lightly, "I could still be a drug addicted stripper."

Kelly laughs, some of the tension leaving us, "True."

Pulling back, she grabs her keys, giving my hand a squeeze. "Ready to head out of here? Get you home for a warm shower and some pain killers?"

"Definitely."

Making our way outside, I walk towards Kelly's car when I see the person two cars down.

"Sara?"

Head jerking up, the brunette looks like she just got caught trying to steal something.

"Hey," she offers, trying to sound casual. "You finished with your statement?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yup."

Looking at her curiously, I finally note what she's doing.

"You're not trying to drive home, are you?" I ask, eyes wide.

Definitely caught in the act, Sara shrugs. "No…"

Seeing my glare, she blushes slightly. "Maybe…"

"Sidle. No." Walking up to her, I hold out my hand. "Give me your keys, right now."

She hesitates, eyes moving between me and her Jeep.

"Now!"

Reluctantly, Sara holds out her hand, my own hand snatching the keys away a second later.

"Vertigo, headache, loss of balance…any of this sounding familiar? Any of this sounding like someone who should be driving?"

Sara looks at me.

"I'm your supervisor and the senior CSI on that scene. I get copies of the incident report."

Seeing her expression I almost want to smile – she knows she's beat.

"Get in," I tell her, gesturing to our car. "I had the better sense to not try to get myself killed on the road tonight by driving when I'm this shaken. Apparently common sense isn't as common as I'd hoped."

For the first time, Sara seems to notice the other person standing by the driver's door of the car I'm gesturing to. Her eyes meet Kelly's and then she looks away, expression tense.

"I can ask one of the guys."

"Sidle, get in the car."

Swallowing, Sara slowly looks up.

"Now."

After nearly two full minutes of silence, Sara finally makes her way towards Kelly's sedan.

"I have…blood…"

She gestures towards her jeans and t-shirt, various blood spatters staining the material.

"Don't worry about it," Kelly assures her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Sara immediately cuts off Kelly's concern, tone polite but far from warm.

Eventually concluding she's not going to win this battle, Sara opens the back door, getting inside as we do the same.

It's a very silent ride that follows.

And, it gets even quieter when Sara realizes we're passing her part of town. Perhaps anticipating what's coming, her expression darkens in the mirror as I look back.

"You're not staying alone tonight," I answer her unspoken question. "Not with a head injury."

"It's not a head injury."

"Please, Sara."

Taking a deep breath, I look over my shoulder to meet her gaze directly.

"Lindsey is away tonight, and I really don't think either of us should be alone right now."

"Kelly…"

"Is busy."

Sara swallows.

"Sara…" I trail off, not sure how to express what I really want to. "I don't think you should alone tonight after how disoriented and dizzy you were after the shooting. But, I also don't want to be alone in my empty, dark house either. Not when that damn shooter is still out there."

It's clear that our shooter is on edge, taking shots at us when he could have remained hidden makes me think he's nervous about this case. Nervous that the evidence we collected today could finally give him and his identity away. Today was a bold move on his part, and in my experience criminals start making bold moves when they've messed up. I feel like this scene was pivotal, and that there's a key piece of evidence there the killer is nervous about us finding, one he didn't have enough time to remedy himself before the cops arrived. He screwed up, and now we just need to figure out how.

But, in the meantime, we have to pray he doesn't make any more bold, desperate moves.

I swallow hard to keep my voice steady, "I was scared shitless today, Sar. I thought I was going to die. I'm still fucking terrified and the last thing I want is to be left alone with my thoughts. It's selfish, but it's true. And I'm not too proud to admit it."

Yes, I could ask Kelly to stay. But, I don't want to make Kelly more scared than she already is, put her in the position of having to listen to her friend describe how she was nearly executed at a crime scene. Right now, I want someone who already understands what I went through and my current frame of mind without me having to say a damn thing because she also lived through the terror of today.

Again, it's selfish but honest.

I can see the hesitance in Sara's expression, the weight of this request for someone like her.

But, eventually she nods, giving in to my request. She protected me today at that scene, and she's still willing to protect me after it. If letting my ego down enough to show my fear is what it takes to keep both Sara and I safe and calm tonight, I don't regret a thing. And, whether she's too stubborn to admit it to herself or not, I think Sara could use the company tonight just as much as me.

The rest of the ride is silent, Kelly watching on quietly as we pull into my drive and get out of the car.

"I'll pick you up in the morning," she says. "Take you to the lab to get your cars."

"Thank you, Kel," I tell her, leaning in through her open window to give her a hug. "I really appreciate this."

"Take care of yourself," Kelly says, eyes moving from me to the brunette. "Both of you."

Without another word, she drives off, leaving Sara and I alone for the first time since our scene.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: Hope you are all doing well. Glad to finally be able to give you guys a quick update. Thank you so much for everyone's kind and thoughtful words last chapter - I enjoy taking these journeys with you all and always love reading your thoughts and insights. You guys are all amazing.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 30

"O comfort-killing night, image of hell, dim register and notary of shame, black stage for tragedies and murders fell, vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame!"

William Shakespeare

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You want anything to drink?"

Sara shakes her head, "I, uh, I could actually use a shower, if you don't mind," she gestures down towards her clothes that are covered in dirt and streaks of blood.

"Of course," I move further into the house. "Guest room's just past Lindsey's, there's a shower with clean towels. I'll put some clean clothes outside the door for you to use."

"Thanks."

Disappearing into the house, I decide I may as well do the same. I want nothing more than to get out of these grimy clothes.

Watching the dirt rinse off me barely minutes later, I wash my skin and hair at least two times, grimacing slightly at the various areas of my body that sting under the shower's warm spray. While most are just scrapes, it still burns uncomfortably under the water and soap.

But, like I said before, I'm damn lucky that's the only discomfort I have. That scene could have gone a hell of a lot worse.

Cutting off the water, I quickly towel off and dress.

When I step outside into the hall, I hear the guest shower just shutting off.

The kitchen is bright when I turn on the lights, making my way to the coffee maker to start a fresh pot. While it's perhaps not the best idea before we're supposed to be sleeping, I know I'm feeling anything but tired right now and could use the warm beverage.

And, I have every intention of adding some special ingredients to these particular cups.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn to see Sara hesitantly entering the kitchen, hair damp and wavy as it falls on the Montana folk festival t-shirt I lent her. I can't help the smile as I notice my sweatpants look more like capris on her endlessly long legs.

Perhaps following my gaze, Sara looks down at her clothing. Gesturing to the shirt, she raises a brow. "Never picked you for a folk festival type of person."

I smile, "We all have our secrets."

"How are you feeling?" she asks me, eyes moving over some of the scrapes visible along my elbows.

"Sore," I admit. "But nothing that won't heal in a few days. And, God, I really can't complain about a few scrapes when someone was literally aiming a sniper rifle at my head."

Sara nods, knowing just how badly today could have gone.

"How about you?" I question, noting she looks a little better with the blood washed off her, but still a bit pale, her own scrapes standing out against her skin.

"I'm okay," she answers predictably.

"Are you ever not okay?" I ask, not knowing whether to smile or roll my eyes.

Sara shrugs, "There was one time I tried to help someone jump their car. Connected the jumper cables to the wrong ends of the battery. That time I wasn't so okay."

I watch her, seeing the slight smile crossing her lips, and I can't help but laugh.

"You're such a dork," I tell her honestly.

Grabbing the coffee pot as it finishes, I pour the steaming liquid into two mugs.

"I didn't ask if you wanted any," I say. "But I've never known you to turn down coffee."

Sara nods, "Thanks."

Gesturing to the bottle of bourbon I brought down from my cupboard, I search her expression. She hesitates a moment before she nods. Adding the amber liquid to our drinks, I extend one of the mugs to her.

* * *

Moving towards the living room, Sara follows, sitting on my couch only after I do.

"You think our shooter from today was the killer from the rave?"

While I'd like to talk about anything other than that horrid scene right now, taking my mind back to that awful place, I know we need to discuss this.

"No," Sara answers. "The change in MO seems too drastic."

She goes quiet, but I can tell she's not saying everything she's thinking.

"But..." I lead her.

"But I think our _vic_ from today is our killer from the rave."

I raise a brow at her theory, intrigued.

"And this killer?"

"Cleaning up lose ends from our prior scene. He's the real person calling the shots. The kill at the rave was his orders, but not his actions."

"Motive?"

"Drugs," Sara answers, and I realize she's already given this thought.

"Okay," I play out her theory in my head. "Today's vic was what then... dealer?"

Sara nods, "Deal went bad between him and our first two vics a the rave, obviously, as drug deals are not intended to end with the buyers being murdered."

"And today's shooter?"

"Supplier. Much higher up the operation."

I think it through, figuring it's as good a theory as any. Or, actually better than most I'd had going through my own head if I'm honest. Sniper executions are not low brow crime. And, criminals with that type of money and artillery often include a city's most affluent gangs - whom are almost always heavily involved in drug sales and dealings, among their other activities.

The evidence will ultimately have to lead us, but at least we are starting to develop a solid theory.

"Too strong?" I bring my attention back to the present when I notice Sara swallow her drink tightly.

Sara shakes her head, taking another small sip and keeping her eyes locked across the room.

I want us to be able to relax, yes, but I don't want to get Sara inebriated either. She looks like her head is hurting bad enough right now without adding a hangover to her list of ails that will greet her in the morning.

Speaking of, I curse my stupidity.

"Shit," I reach out, lowering her arms when she goes to take another sip. "Should you be drinking that? With your head?"

Sara's eyes move closer, but still not meeting mine.

"Nothing is wrong with my head," she states tightly, like she's trying to explain addition to a kindergartner. "Just my ear from the noise. So unless this drink is about to start playing rock music I think I'll survive the experience of drinking it."

Releasing her forearm, I pull my hand back.

"Sorry," I offer. "Just concerned."

Sighing, Sara seems to lower her shoulders slightly.

"No," she says quietly. "_I'm_ sorry. I didn't mean to snap…I just…"

"It's been a long day," I offer her an easy out.

After all, I'm not exactly doing the greatest with my emotions right now either. When I get flustered I tend to want to be close to those around me, Sara instead tends to push them away. We all have our ways of coping, and neither one is more 'correct' than the other.

Just when I think our drinks are going to be finished in silence, Sara's voice reaches me despite its soft tone.

"I appreciate that you care, Catherine. It's very…kind."

I'm worried that she thinks I care out of some feeling of obligation or politeness. Not that I just simply _care_ about her. But, I'll take what I can get. And, I appreciate her stepping out of her comfort zone far enough to even say what she just did to me. Coming from Sara it really means a lot.

"That head of yours has a lot of knowledge that tends to come in handy. I have a vested interest in its wellbeing."

Sara smiles slightly, a gentle tug pulling at the corner of her lips.

It's small, but it does a lot to break some of the tension in the room.

"Are you going to turn this case over to the guys?" she asks, voice quiet.

Sara's question surprises me, but I can understand why she's asking it. Under these circumstances, it would be well within my right to reassign the remainder of the investigation to another CSI. Sara and I are now clearly personally involved, and some supervisors would follow strict policy regarding concerns of bias being raised in court. But, I've never exactly been one to follow all the rules quite so rigidly.

"Do you want me to pass it off?" I question honestly.

Anyone would understand not wanting to work a case after being shot at by the perp – in fact, most sane people would insist on being relieved from the case.

But, apparently neither Sara and I are sane as the brunette finally meets my eyes, looking at me like I've spoken in tongues.

"Of course not."

"The shooter could try again," I press.

"Then I hope he's invested as much money in bullet proof armor as he has in weaponry."

Sara's words are tight, harsh. It's clear that this case has riled her, that she did not appreciate someone taking shots at her and I while we had no reasonable ability to fight back. It's one thing to shoot at someone, it's another thing to shoot at them from the safety of a mountainside when you're the only one with a scope.

"I'm not handing this case over, Sara," I assure her, answering her original question. "Not unless you had wanted me to."

I reach towards her, placing my hand on her shoulder.

"This is our case, our fight. We're going to be the ones to finish it."

Looking over at me, Sara searches my gaze, and for what is probably the first time since I met her she doesn't move to get out from under my touch. Allowing the contact, she lets out a long breath, eyes lowering back to her mug as she empties the rest of her drink in one large swallow.

* * *

I'm not sure when exactly Sara and I realized how late it was, but once we did, we placed our cups in the sink, saying our goodnights and heading off to our respective beds.

Now, glancing at the clock, I note we've been asleep for about two hours. Or, at least I have.

Seeing a slight, fuzzy light flickering under my doorway, I push the covers down towards my legs. Stretching, I quietly place my feet on the floor, arms crossing over my body at the chill in the air.

Stepping silently out of my room, I move carefully down the hallway until I'm in the living room. There, sure enough, is a lone figure watching television with the sound all the way off. Seeing the closed captioning, I smile slightly. Only Sara would watch what looks like the history channel on mute.

Moving around the couch, Sara jerks away from me when she senses the sudden movement next to her.

"Sorry," I say gently. "I didn't mean to startle you, it's just me."

Taking a deep breath, Sara shakes her head. "It's fine, didn't expect to see anyone is all." Looking me over, she glances back towards the TV. "Sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not at all," I assure her. "I was already awake, noticed the light."

"Sorry," she says again. "I can turn it off."

"Sara," I calm her with a small smile. "It's fine. Really."

She seems unsure, clearly worried and likely still trying to adjust to another person being here when she's apparently been out here alone for quite some time.

"Can't sleep?" I ask.

"I'm not…normally…I don't…" Sara seems unsure how to answer. "I don't normally sleep much."

She's alluded to this answer before, and I've joked with her about her lack of sleep numerous times. But, seeing it in person somehow makes it sadder, and definitely not something to joke about. I can see her heavy eyes, her weary expression and fatigued posture. The girl is wrecked, and yet here she is watching a documentary about the international space station.

"Why not?"

Sara looks surprised at the question, perhaps not expecting it. Or perhaps not expecting me to actually come out and ask it.

Perching on the edge of the arm of the couch, I let her see I'm serious and that I genuinely want to hear the answer.

"I don't know…" she trails off. "I just never have, I guess."

It's a deflective answer, and she knows it. Somehow I expected it, after all Sara Sidle is the queen of deflection. But, tonight I'd hoped perhaps in the cover of darkness, in the spirit of what we'd just been through and the progress we've made in our relationship, that she'd be more willing to open up.

"Why?" I press again.

"Does it matter?" she counters.

I don't even hesitate.

"To me it does."

"Why?" this time it's her turn to ask, the question barely a whisper as her eyes shift away from mine.

"Because you matter to me."

The answer hangs between us, her eyes on the carpet, mine on hers.

It's clear she doesn't know what to do with this answer, this honest declaration that she can easily distinguish as truthful.

Remaining quiet, she tugs at the material of the pillow next to her, the saturated colors of the television playing off her features.

"You mind if I join you?"

Her answer doesn't come for a while, and I'm sure she'll make some excuse to leave. But, just as I've given up hope, she finally moves the pillow, clearing a spot for me without a word.

Joining her, we watch the television together silently, reading along about events and places that seem so foreign, so abstract from our own.

* * *

"Sara."

Reaching down, I gently run my fingers across the bare skin of her arm, carefully avoiding the various abrasions that cross through the tanned skin.

"Sara, sweetheart."

Hearing her heavy breathing give way to a low noise that sounds like a mix between a growl and a whimper, I become more aggressive.

"Sara," I state louder, squeezing her shoulder firmly. "Wake up."

She's still shaking, her body trembling so harshly that I can feel it all the way on my side of the couch.

"Come on, Sara," I call. "Wake up."

Pulling her shoulders, I gently but firmly jar her body until she's finally awake.

Immediately, she jerks upright, legs tangling with my coffee table as she stumbles to her feet.

"Hey, easy," I call. "You're okay, Sara. You're safe."

Breaths dragging in rapidly, her eyes shoot to mine, as if perhaps realizing for the first time that I'm here. And, then, glancing around, she seems to recall where she is.

"Fuck," she gets out, backing away a few steps as she tries to settle her breathing.

I let her collect herself, watching as she drags a hand through her hair, pushing the dark strands back from her face.

She's still shaking.

"You okay?" I question gently.

She nods, perhaps not trusting her voice quite yet.

She looks anything but alright, but I don't push her. However, when she starts to step away even further, I can sense what's about to happen just moments before it does.

"I should let you get some rest," Sara says. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"Is this why you don't sleep?"

Sara's eyes dart to mine, her dark gaze even harder to read in the limited lighting.

"I'll see you in the morning, Catherine."

"Sara, stop."

She ignores me and keeps walking, only stopping when I grip her elbow as she tries to pass the couch.

Pulling herself from my grip violently, she narrows her eyes.

"Don't."

Her tone is low, stern.

Without another word, she steps away into the darkness, disappearing down the hall into the guest room. The door shuts soundly, and not a second later I hear the lock on the knob click into place.

* * *

I have a problem.

I care.

I care a whole damn lot.

All I need to do is look down at the path I practically burned into the carpet in front of my guest room to realize just how damn much I care.

Yes, I knew I cared for Sara before this. My reaction when Kelly told me she had feelings for the brunette was enough of a wake up call for me to realize that my own feelings for Sara aren't entirely platonic. Not platonic at all, really. They're feelings a CSI shouldn't be having for their coworker. Especially not their subordinate coworker.

But, that ship has left the dock. Whether it's right or wrong or somewhere in between, the feelings are there. They're there and there's no making them go away, no ignoring them until they disappear, no denying this to myself any longer.

And, much to my surprise, they're even deeper and stronger than I gave them credit for.

I need to admit to myself not only that I have feelings for Sara, but just how much I'm feeling towards her. How much my heart feels like its being clenched and squeezed inside my chest at the simple fact that she's hurting and I can't do a damn thing about it.

For the last hour I've wanted to do nothing more than knock on this door. Hell, knock _down_ this damn door and make her talk to me. Make her stop running and hiding her feelings, her emotions from me. Make her realize that she's not alone, that people care. That _I _care.

But, that isn't the way to get anywhere with Sara. You go after her like that and she'll shut you out even stronger than she did before. You can't force her somewhere she isn't ready to go. You have to be patient.

Which, unfortunately, isn't one of my strong suits.

But, it's the only way to handle this. To handle her.

As much as it pains me, I need to give her space tonight. It's too soon for anything else.

And, before I can even think about getting anywhere personal with Sara, she needs to know how I feel about her. It isn't fair to present myself as a caring friend or colleague when I have desires for more. Sara has been nothing but protective of me since the moment I met her, our scene hours ago a glaring example, and I owe her the respect of offering her the same.

But, before I go further down this road, I know there's something else I need to do.

I need to figure out what it was that Sara discussed with Kelly to make my friend change her mind about pursuing a relationship with her. As well as she hid it, I saw the damage Kelly's rejection did to Sara, and I can't let that happen to her again. I won't offer something to Sara only to retract it days later. I need to be sure I'm willing to travel this road to all the way to the end before I get on it at all.

But, to do that, I'm going to have to figure out how to go about getting the information.

Sara is unlikely to open up to me if I go to her directly, and asking her would play my hand anyway. To ask Kelly would feel like a betrayal to both of them.

I'm not sure the best way of doing this, but I've concluded that it needs to be done. I can't stand this limbo anymore. I can't stand Sara literally putting her life in danger for me while I in turn can't even enter a room to comfort her. She's been so selfless, so sacrificing, and here I am forced to stand by while she fights her own battles alone.

It's not fair.

This woman who has done so much for me, for my daughter, she deserves better.

She deserves someone willing and able to be there for her in return.

* * *

When I get up the next morning, I half expect Sara not to be there. To have called a cab or somehow gotten a ride out of here.

And, when I see the empty guest room, living room, and kitchen, I begin to confirm my suspicions. But, just as I'm turning to head back into the hallway to get dressed, I see my back door is unlocked.

On a hunch, I move carefully to the door, quietly pulling the curtain aside.

Sure enough, Sara is perched along the porch steps, sitting with her elbows resting on her knees, head propped up on tight fists.

Turning around, I give her a few more moments of peace before I interrupt her, cautiously stepping outside with a steaming cup of coffee in my hands.

Without a word, I sit next to her, extending the offered beverage.

Taking it, her head lowers slightly, eyes watching the steam rising into the early morning air.

Her feet are bare, her sweatpants pushed up towards her knees.

"I'm sorry," Sara eventually breaks the silence, her words quiet and her tone heavy.

I shake my head, "No apology needed."

Just like there's no explanation needed for what it is she's apologizing for.

We don't speak, Sara only moving occasionally to drink her coffee.

"Do you have a change of clothes at the lab?" I ask, trying to focus on neutral topics for right now. "Not that my pants don't look charming on you, but something tells me you'd rather wear something that actually reaches your ankles."

Sara nods, "I can put my jeans back on and change into my spare clothes at the lab."

"You sure?" I ask, having seen enough of her jeans to have spotted the amount of dirt and blood caked into the material. "I can try to wash them here."

"Don't bother," she tells me. "They just need to get me through the lab door and then they're off to the jeans heaven in the sky."

"At least keep my t-shirt until you can change," I suggest, knowing that as rough as her jeans looked, her shirt looked even worse. The blood from her ear alone discolored an unsettling amount of the material on the right side.

"You sure?"

"It's just a shirt, Sar."

Sara swallows, fingers tapping along her mug. "Thanks."

"No problem," I answer easily. "Besides, I owe you a sweater."

Sara smiles slightly, her expression finally losing just a slight bit of its edge.

"It can live happily ever after with my jeans."

Smiling as well, I lean back, silently enjoying the crisp, clean air of the morning until it's time for me to change my own clothes before we leave.

As I stand, I pause just before reaching the door.

"You're the strongest person I know, Sara," I say softly into the wisps of sunlight barely peaking up from the mountains. "You've saved my ass more times that I can count in the short time I've known you, put your life on the line for me when you had every reason not to. You are brave, loyal, and so damn courageous."

I lower my head, shaking it darkly.

"Don't you dare for one minute try to convince yourself that what I witnessed when you fell asleep last night makes me see you any other way. I've already seen who you are, Sara. Nothing could ever change that."

Without another word, I leave her to her private thoughts.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: Thanks as always to those reading, following, and reviewing. Your support is what keeps the stories going. Hope everyone is doing well. Glad to have another reasonably timed update for everyone.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 31

_"Reason sits firm and holds the reins, and she will not let the feelings burst away and hurry her to wild chasms. The passions may rage furiously, like true heathens, as they are; and the desires may imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgment shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in every decision."_

\- _Charlotte Bronte_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You guys sure you're okay?" Jim's gaze moves between Sara and I, looking us both over. "Because quite honestly you both look like you got in a fight with a very angry cat."

I laugh, having seen my own reflection this morning well enough to recognize the various scratches and scrapes along portions of my body, including my face. And, my quiet colleague standing next to me has quite a few of her own.

Getting serious, Jim places our service weapons on the desk in front of us. "I'm glad you guys are alright."

His eyes linger on Sara for a moment, the two sharing a silent bond and I note Sara's expression warming as she gives him a small smile.

"Thanks," I tell the police captain. "Everything cleared through IA?"

He nods, bringing his attention back to our weapons. "Probably the easiest IA investigation those people have had this year. Took them about an hour to clear your use of force reports."

I nod in relief, not having wanted to waste time on this case while IA performed some useless inquiry into why Sara and I discharged our weapons at the scene. I think it's pretty damn clear why we discharged our weapons. And, let's be honest, our 9mms could never have accurately targeted our suspect anyway – our bullets simply acting to create distraction and cover rather than legitimate attempts at a gunman located all the way across a damn canyon.

Taking her weapon, Sara wastes no time checking the safety and placing it at her hip. Following suit, it feels good to have things returning back towards normal. I want to get to work and nail this bastard.

"We good?" I question, making sure there's nothing else Sara and I need to do.

"You're good," Jim affirms with a knowing smile. "Go get that asshole."

* * *

"God," I breathe out, looking over the contents of the table in amazement. "How many shots did he get off?"

"By bullet count nine," Sara answers, her eyes joining mine as they focus on the metal shards already sorted for us on the evidence table by one of our team members. "Though by auditory count it was eleven."

Looking up, it takes me a moment.

"You counted his shots?"

"Yes," Sara shrugs. "Helps me know how many bullets we need to recover. Apparently we're still missing two. Although, to be honest, that's better than I expected considering the expanse of land and how many places they could have gone off."

I'm still shocked, "You were seriously able to get an auditory count?"

Sara finally looks up, confusion forming on her face when she sees my expression.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asks, trying to figure out why I'm staring at her like this.

"No, no," I shake my head. "Quite the opposite. I feel like an idiot that apparently you were able to get a shot count while I was simply trying to keep from pissing myself while running for my life."

Sara looks away, her eyes roaming over the table as she appears to consider what she wants to say next.

"I…" she trails off.

Taking a breath, she taps her fingers along the table.

"I guess I've had some experience paying attention to my environment when in danger. Sometimes…sometimes it's the only thing that can save your life."

She doesn't say more, her voice trailing off and I know she won't comment further. But, it's enough.

Sara and I both share an unfortunate commonality. We've both been exposed to abusive environments. But, Sara's exposure included when she was a child. A time when knowing places to hide, people to avoid, safe havens and dangerous triggers are all a part of your daily living. A part of your daily struggle to stay safe, alive.

Her youth was probably filled with situations like this shooting where you're filled with adrenaline, not knowing whether you were going to live or die. After a while, your body stops panicking when entering fight or flight mode, instead you almost get conditioned to it. Your body and mind can remain calmer, more focused – helping you in your goal of getting out of the situation in one piece.

It's a gift not many people have – but a dark gift that no one should ever hope for.

Reaching out, I take her hand, holding on tightly when she flinches in surprise at the unexpected contact.

Running my thumb along her knuckles soothingly, I squeeze her hand in mine, letting it communicate that I understand the meaning lying underneath the surface of her words.

"You did well, Sara," I tell her quietly, hating the reasons behind her attention to detail in this case. Hating that this wasn't the first time her, or my, life was threatened. And, hating more that those other times had nothing to do with the job we hold.

Looking down at our joined hands, Sara stays quiet, her body still and silent.

Finally, she squeezes my hand back before she pulls hers away.

"We, uh," she clears her throat. "We should get these dusted for prints. Likely useless, but we should at least try."

Allowing her the request for change in topics, I nod, gathering up about half of the evidence bags containing the bullets to my side of the table.

For the next hour, we work in complete silence.

* * *

"Nothing."

Tossing down the folder on the table, I let out a long, exhausted breath.

"No prints, no trace, no DNA. Bullets were useless, the evidence from the scene itself is coming up empty. Our guys still haven't found where he was positioned on the ridge to look for evidence there…"

I rub my temples, trying to stop the frustration racing through me.

"This guy tried to blow our heads off and we have absolutely nothing here to get him."

Taking in my words, Sara turns, heading to the coffee maker.

"We'll get him," she returns quietly but sincerely.

Snorting, I shake my head. "Not at this rate."

"Hey," Sara says when she turns back around with two full cups of coffee, passing one to me. "We've been at this less than 24 hours, Catherine. This isn't the end - we're just getting started."

"Yeah?" I question. "With what evidence?"

Sara's eyes search mine before she looks down at her coffee, swirling the liquid slightly.

"We're just getting started," she responds, repeating her words. Looking up at me, she matches my gaze. "We make a great team, Catherine, and we're going to figure this out. I promise you."

Watching the hazel gaze pinned on mine, I note the sincerity lying in hers. The honesty.

While most people uttering such words would come across as false promises, with Sara it somehow feels different. She has an eerie awareness and calmness to her that sometimes catches me off guard. She's one of the very few people I've ever met that can make me feel this level of trust and security, just by her words alone. Perhaps it's because her actions have always proven her right, proven that she is, indeed, trustworthy.

"I hope so," I respond sincerely, finally feeling some of my frustration leaving me, slowly transforming into motivation. She's right, were just barely in the first inning right now – this case is far from over.

And, she's also right about us being a damn good team. There's no one else in this lab I'd rather be paired with on this than her.

Sighing, I look down at my own coffee, taking a long sip before I grimace.

"God this is horrible."

Sara laughs lightly, for the first time today losing just a slight bit of the tension around her. I know last night was stressful for her, and our interactions this morning as well. So far today we have been trying to move on from it – to not let it set us back in the progress we've made between us so far.

I appreciate her efforts, and that she's been working hard to not shut me out today like she did last night. I can tell she's trying not to retreat back behind all her walls she had when we first met, and I appreciate that beyond words. While our progress forward has been slow, the last thing I wanted was to start moving backward.

"When's the last time you ate?" I ask curiously, feeling the coffee settling uncomfortably in my own empty stomach.

Sara hesitates, "Oh, uh…"

"If you have to think about it, it's been too long."

I know I haven't had anything since the quick apple I grabbed at my place this morning, and I know for a fact Sara didn't eat anything at my house. So, that puts us at least two meals behind. Sara probably more.

"Come on," I call. "I'm taking you to lunch."

She pauses, shaking her head, "Thanks, but I should really get back to…"

"To what?" I snort. "The evidence that we've already processed? Or the new evidence that doesn't exist?"

Caught, Sara swallows. "Sorry, I just, it seems like I should be doing something to help this case…I don't want to waste time or opportunity."

"I respect that, Sara," I state honestly. "And I feel the same, obviously. But we've exhausted the evidence we have right now, and we both need a break and some food before we can keep pushing forward. We're exhausted."

I pause, putting my free hand in my pocket.

"If you don't want to eat with me, that's fine," I tell her. "But at least let me get you some food. You're looking a little rough, no offense."

Sara raises a brow, "Thanks," she says with a light shake of her head. "And it's fine…eating with you…that's not…"

She takes a breath, gathering herself.

"I'd love to eat with you, Catherine."

Smiling, I laugh lightly at my younger companion, "That's a much better answer, Sidle."

Grabbing my file and storing it safely aside, I head to the door.

"Come on," I call. "I'm driving."

I hear an exaggerated sigh behind me that only makes me smile wider.

* * *

When Sara and I get seated, the first thing we order is real coffee. Not that crap they try to pass off as coffee at the lab. When the waitress walks away, Sara and I fall into silence. Thankfully, it's not an awkward silence, just a quiet, exhausted silence.

But, my interactions with Sara outside of work are rare, and I don't want to spend this one with my own thoughts. I want to spend this one with her.

"You know what you're going to get?" I ask.

She nods, having already closed her own menu. "Pancakes."

"Really?" I question with a raised brow. "For lunch?"

Sara nods, "Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Doesn't matter."

"Alright then," I nod, noting this information about Sara. "Strange food to be a favorite, but no judgement."

"What are you getting?" she challenges.

"Turkey wrap, fries. You know, a normal lunch item."

Sara smiles slightly, a small quirk to her lips. "Uh huh."

The restaurant isn't busy, and soon Sara and I have ordered and received our food.

"Plain pancakes…" I can't seem to understand my companion's food choice even after we've started eating. "Not even any bacon or sausage? God, and no syrup?"

Sara smiles, swallowing another forkful of pancakes adorned with butter only. "I'm a vegetarian, Catherine. So, no to the bacon or sausage. And syrup sort of ruins pancakes in my opinion, they're perfect enough without it."

I raise my brows, "You're a vegetarian?" I try to think back to the times I've seen her eating, to what she had at my housewarming.

"Yes," she answers simply.

"Huh," I respond, not knowing why it bothers me that I didn't know this about her. Seems like something you should know about someone else.

But, I guess when it comes to Sara and the mile long list of things I don't know about her, this should really barely register.

"I was five when I saw this guy we lived next to putting down an injured horse. The horse was suffering, but I still couldn't handle it. I wouldn't speak for days. That poor horse was probably better off being put out of its misery, but I knew then that if I couldn't handle that animal dying for that reason, there was no way I could handle what goes on with the animals that are killed for other reasons. Like food."

Her explanation surprises me, not having expected her to share anything further than necessary. It makes me smile, feeling like I'm finally getting to know her one small, tiny step at a time.

"Sorry," I offer, gesturing down to my wrap.

She shrugs, "Just because it isn't for me doesn't mean I judge others."

I smile, the answer being so characteristically Sara.

"Where were you?" I ask curiously. "Where were you living when that happened?"

Sara's expression tightens slightly, just enough for me to notice.

"New Mexico."

This time she doesn't expand on her answer, and I can read enough of her body language to know not to ask further. Nodding, I don't push, respecting that her childhood probably isn't the best conversation topic for the brunette.

"We had horses where I grew up in Montana," I state, turning the topic to me and seeing Sara's eyes raise in relief. "Five of them. I loved riding them, feeding them, brushing them. Pretty much everything about them." I laugh. "I'm pretty sure I preferred those horses to most people I've met in my life."

Sara smiles, "I can relate."

Smiling back, I take a bit of food before continuing. "My sister used to ride them competitively, but to me that just took the fun out of it. Made it into some kind of chore or responsibility."

"How old is your sister?" Sara asks.

"She's two years younger than me, so early 30's."

Sara nods, "She still in Montana?"

Smiling, I think of my sister. "Yeah, she actually owns a vet clinic up in the foothills close to where we grew up. Now she takes care of everyone else's animals."

"You guys close?" Sara asks, eyes genuinely interested.

"We were," I answer. "We sort of lost touch a bit when I was going through my Vegas rebellion phase. Nancy's always been one to follow the rules, straight A's in school, never stepping out of line. She couldn't understand my need to get away from it all. Couldn't understand why I was doing the awful things I was doing while I was here."

I shrug, "We've gotten closer again though as adults. Now both in much better places in our lives. I try to talk to her at least once a week, Skype when we can on the weekends. I couldn't be happier to have her back in my life – I don't know what I'd do without her."

Smiling, Sara swallows some of her coffee. "That sounds nice."

I hesitate, not knowing whether I have the right to ask Sara these questions in return. With anyone else I wouldn't hesitate, but with Sara I never know what the guarded CSI is going to be okay with or not. She so rarely talks about herself or anything personal that I have no idea where my boundary lines are.

"Catherine?" Sara questions, noting my expression.

"Sorry," I respond. "Just…"

I decide if Sara and I are going to keep moving forward, I need to be open with her.

"I was just wondering if you also had any siblings, but I wasn't sure if I could ask."

Sara watches me, her expression hard to read.

"Why couldn't you ask?"

I pause, not knowing how to phrase this. "You don't really open up about yourself," I say honestly. "And you've never said anything about your family. I don't want to push or make you uncomfortable."

Sara continues watching me, her gaze slightly unnerving.

Then, she looks away.

"I think you already know why I don't bring up those particular topics," Sara says, tone even and carefully controlled. "And so you already know the worst parts of it. What difference does it make asking about the rest?"

I watch her, my own eyes unable to look away from her profile.

"I don't think I do," I state sadly, voice almost a whisper. "I don't think I know the worst parts, Sara."

Her jaw tightening, Sara looks down, her eyes fixed on a spot near our table's window.

Clearing her throat, Sara takes in a deep breath, centering herself as she returns her eyes to mine.

"Whether or not I have siblings isn't a question that will give me much pause when you already know the other types of things about me that you do."

Sara ignores my previous comment, and it makes my heart clench, wondering if her avoidance is confirmation. And, somehow knowing it is.

Respecting her privacy, I respond to her spoken words versus her unspoken ones.

"Okay," I take a chance, "do you have siblings?"

Sara watches me a moment before nodding.

"Two," she answers. "Well, one."

Breathing in, she taps her fork against her plate quietly.

"I had a younger brother, but he passed away. I also have a sister, older than me."

I pause, hesitant regarding what to say.

"I'm sorry to hear about your brother," I offer sincerely.

"Thanks," she says quietly. "It was a while ago."

I nod, knowing enough about her nonverbal cues to move on from that topic for now.

"You and your sister close?" I ask instead.

"No," Sara says with a light laugh. "Not at all."

"Oh?" I raise a brow.

"We, um, sort of also took different paths in life."

I nod, "Did she go all 'Catherine' on you?"

Sara smiles, shaking her head. "Not at all. She was the Nancy and I was the Catherine if that's the analogy we're going with."

Now I raise both brows, "Really?"

Sara nods, "What? You pictured me as the Nancy type?"

I nod, eyes wide as I laugh, "Yes. Have you met yourself, Sidle?"

Sara laughs as well, and I'm glad to see some of the tension leaving from our conversation.

"Like you," she answers, "I'm a bit different now than I was when I was younger."

I shake my head, staring at her.

"I can't comprehend this," I state honestly. "I can't picture you as anything but the dorky, brilliant, type A, stubbornly noble CSI that I've witnessed."

Sara snorts, "Thanks for that glowing description. I sound quite attractive."

I smile, while wishing Sara knew just how attractive she, and her personality, really are.

"You're being serious though?" I ask her one last time. "This isn't some version of your dry humor that you love so much?"

Sara nods, "Seriously. Noreen, my sister, she's a cardiac surgeon up at Johns Hopkins the last time I looked her up. Everything she did was about getting into med school, keeping a perfect record, perfect grades."

I shake my head, confused. "But, you went to Harvard, correct?" I ask. "Your own grades must have been damn near perfect."

Sara pauses, recalling I've seen her personal file listing all her past education. "Perfect grades? No. I just did really well on my standardized testing."

"How well?"

Sara pauses, blushing slightly.

"Oh," I respond, starting to get it. "So, your sister works tirelessly to pull off perfect grades, does well on her SAT, on her GRE, MCAT, etc. Meanwhile, her younger sister gets perfect scores on her SAT because she's just naturally a brilliant genius. So, younger sister who could care less about grades and status gets a free ride to Harvard while older sister who's applied herself since day one needs to fight her way into med school because her mind doesn't work like her younger sister's."

Sara watches me, eyes widening slightly.

"Uh…"

"Just admit I'm right."

"Sort of," Sara admits. "But Noreen's brilliant, that was never the issue. She just, it's more that we ran in different crowds growing up. I screwed up my life in so many ways while she always did everything right. I think it hurt her that in the end we ended up at the same place in life. It wasn't fair."

"You don't think she was also happy for you though? She's your sister, surely she'd want you to do well in life?"

"I think she feels resentful about a lot of things," Sara answers sincerely. "But other things happened beyond the school stuff. I think in the end there were just too many feelings that entered into it all…it became easier for her just to cut herself off from me than have to reconcile with everything."

"Other things…" I trail. "Other things like involving your brother?"

Sara nods quietly, "Some. Yes."

I know better than to push further, lucky to have gotten even this much from Sara. Piece by piece, I'm starting to fill in tiny portions of the Sidle puzzle. Long ways to go, but, finally a few pieces have at least been taken out of the box.

"So, what crowds did you run in, exactly?" I ask as my last question, not able to keep the curiosity at bay.

I've always pictured Sara being the girl on the math team or journal club in school – perfect grades and involved in a thousand activities, one equally as intellectual as the next.

"Uh…"

She pauses, genuinely struggling to figure out if she wants to tell me. It only makes my curiosity rise higher.

"Come on, Sar," I plead. "You know I was once a stripper. It can't be worse than that."

Sara still struggles, eventually sighing.

"The crowd I ran in...was mostly members of a gang I got involved with."

I laugh, I legitimately laugh.

And, Sara just narrows her eyes when she looks up.

"You wanted me to tell you, and then you laugh at me?"

"I'm sorry," I answer. "God, really, I'm sorry. That is just _not _what I expected you to say."

I try to wrap my head around it, Sara Sidle a member of a gang? No. There's no way.

"How? Why?"

Sara shrugs, eyes studying her coffee.

I can tell that she's being serious, and probably a little hurt by my reaction.

"Things weren't easy in our household growing up," Sara says quietly. "Then, stuff happened, and we got put in the foster system. We constantly got moved around from house to house. When that's your life, it's easy to feel like you don't belong anywhere. Like you don't have a family."

She looks up, her eyes heavy and dark.

"So, you join a different kind of family."

And, with that, it makes sense. Perfect sense. And I feel like even more of an ass for laughing.

Sara's childhood was violent, traumatic, and I don't even know half of what she went through. Of all people to be part of a gang, she's the perfect candidate really. She's simply unique in that she somehow got the hell out of there intact, got herself into Harvard and Berkeley. Made a life for herself.

"I'm sorry," I tell her honestly. "I just never would have suspected. But, knowing a little more about the journey you've taken to end up at this spot…" I shake my head. "It makes me even more proud of you."

Sara laughs lowly, dropping her gaze.

"There's nothing about my past to be proud of," she gets out. "I was so angry, so messed up. The things we did…the things _I _did…"

She shakes her head in disgust.

"I would trade where I am now to erase where I've been. In a heartbeat I would take that part of my life back if I could, no matter where it would put me now."

I pause, hearing the self-hatred in her tone, the darkness behind her words.

"Sara," I state. "We've all done things we wish we could take back. And, honestly, my own laundry list would make anyone sick. But, you at some point have to accept that it's there, that it's never going to go away, and you just have to come to peace with it."

Sara looks out the window, taking in my words as she remains silent.

"Hey," I call.

When she doesn't respond I reach out, gently turning her jaw until she's facing me.

"Your sister's missing out on knowing one hell of a fine young woman. A woman who I'm damn proud to know and have in my life."

Sara swallows tightly, her eyes fighting to stay on mine as they start to deepen with emotion.

"A woman who, every time she reveals to me just a little bit more about herself, I only get prouder of her."

Running my thumb across her cheek, I trace her cheekbone before letting my hand fall away.

"Now," I call, clearing the emotion from my own throat. "Eat your damn pancakes before you get any skinnier and there's nothing left of you for me to love."

Sara's eyes are on mine, her body completely still, before finally she swallows, clearing her own throat.

A small smile presses at her mouth, the brunette shaking her head as she lifts her fork.

* * *

As we pull back into the lab parking lot, I turn off the engine, getting out of the car as my phone starts to ring.

Glancing down at the display, I note the number.

"I'll meet you inside," I tell Sara.

She looks over at me, glancing towards my phone a moment before nodding. Turning and walking away, she gives me my privacy.

Taking a deep breath, I answer.

"Willows."

"Catherine, hi, it's Vince."

Already having recognized the number on my phone, I smile.

"Hey, Vince. Did you get my message?"

"I did," he states, and for once he keeps things strictly business, my former lab tech's tone uncharacteristically serious.

There's a pause, and what sounds like a long breath out.

"I have what you've asked for. But, Catherine, I have to warn you, this isn't like the last time."

"Meaning."

"Meaning with that Gabriel Williams guy I found pretty much nothing, as you know."

"And this time?"

There's another sigh.

"Let's just say this Sara Sidle person has a lot of very dark skeletons that she's hiding."

Taking my own deep breath, I keep my focus. After all, I knew this before I called Vince with this request. This is _why _I called Vince with this request.

"When can you get it to me?"

This time there's no pause.

"I pulled paper copies of everything relevant. I scanned it as a PDF and emailed it to you as an encrypted file. I sent it to you from a bogus email so this wouldn't get traced back to me. I have everything labeled as 'low lease rate' advertisements so anyone looking on your end will think it's spam. It should already be in your inbox."

I close my eyes at the finality of what I've already done, and what I am perhaps about to do.

"Thanks, Vince. I really appreciate you going out on a limb for me, especially now that I'm not even your boss or colleague anymore."

"Once a Montana CSI, always a part of our family," Vince says quietly. "Good luck with everything."

"Thanks."

As we hang up, I take a moment to breathe in and out, the burden of this decision already weighing on me. I know I need to learn what it is that Sara's hiding prior to discussing my feelings with her. But, to do that, I need to violate her privacy in such an immeasurable way.

After watching her struggle to share the couple things she did today during lunch, I feel my heart clenching in guilt at the idea of ripping open the rest of her life – the rest of the things she's hidden deeply down inside. Things that likely surpass what she told me today in regards to both severity and quantity by exponential levels. Things that she likely didn't even share with Kelly, giving my friend enough, but not all, of her secrets to make a decision.

Though my intentions are good, can I really do this?

_Should _I really do this?

Taking a deep breath, I decide that this decision is for later, when I get home from work. Right now, I have a case to solve.

But, even as I walk up the steps into the lab, my mind keeps jerking back to the person that I'm working the case with. And, to the file sitting in my email inbox that contains her deepest, darkest secrets.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Loved hearing from you guys last chapter and reading your thoughts about Catherine's decision. Was interesting reading people's opinions regarding what she should/shouldn't do. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 32**  
**

_"Trust him not with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers." _

_-Johann Kaspar Lavater_

* * *

CATHERINE POV_  
_

It's a long night.

It's a long night because it's supposed to be everything that it isn't. Relaxing, enjoyable, fun, comforting.

As I hear Kelly and Lindsey laugh at something in the movie I can't pay attention to despite my best efforts, I sigh. This night for me is torture. One of the most stressful I've had in a long time. And, that says a lot.

Looking down, I feel a hand on my arm.

"You okay?" Kelly's eyes are warm, concerned, her voice barely a whisper to keep it out of earshot of my daughter who giggles again at the snowman singing some sort of song on our television.

"Yeah," I smile lightly. "I will be."

Kelly nods, respecting my privacy while she gives my arm a supportive squeeze.

"Can you watch her for a minute while I take care of something?"

Kelly nods again, giving me a small smile to let me know to take all the time I need.

"Thanks."

Getting carefully from the couch so not to disturb Lindsey who's singing along at our feet, I exit the room and move into my guest room.

The one that ironically recently held the very person my thoughts keep wandering to.

Knowing I've made a decision, I can no longer wait for this night to end for me to act on it. All day at work, all evening during our newly traditional dinner and movie night, I couldn't keep my mind from wandering to this very person, this very decision.

I can't keep prolonging this.

Pulling out my phone, I open my email.

Seeing the very email that's been causing me so much angst glowing back up at me in the dim room, I take a deep breath.

This is it.

Without another moment of hesitation, I reach down and do what I think I've known all along I was going to.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Sara?" I ask, eyes falling to those in the breakroom.

Nick shakes his head, "Nope, sorry."

It's the start of shift, so it's possible that she's not here yet. But, she's Sara Sidle, so actually it's really not possible at all.

"Tell her I'm looking for her if you see her?"

"Sure," Nick agrees, sending me a polite smile and nod.

Sighing, I pass Gil's office, already having looked there and finding it empty except for Gil himself, poring over some sort of creepy looking jar.

Confirming a second time that all the other labs are empty, I sigh, running my hands through my hair. We're working this rave case together, just as we have been for numerous shifts. Nearly every day I've come in, Sara's been tucked away in these back labs, already starting on our available evidence, filling me in on her progress when I join her.

But, today, the lab is completely without Sidle's presence.

Trying her cell again, I hear the call go immediately to voicemail. Which, gives me pause. The other times today I've tried it at least rang through before voicemail picked up. For the call to go straight to voicemail, it means her phone is turned off. Which, since it's her work phone, is against policy to do.

And, as I've previously established, Sidle isn't one to break policy.

So, the only other possibility…

"Shit." I curse my oversight.

I quickly dial another number.

"Brass."

"Hey Jim," I greet, already heading towards the locker room. "You didn't by any chance hear anything about Sara joining your guys up at the desert sniper scene today, did you?"

Jim doesn't even pause, "Yeah, she's here with my guys. Why?"

"Damn it," I curse. "Alright, I'm headed your way."

"Everything okay?" he asks cautiously.

"Yeah," I state, not wanting to drag him into this. "I just wish she'd have given me a heads up is all."

"She's been up here with us for hours already, Catherine. She probably just didn't want to wake you since shift is just starting."

"What the hell is she doing there in the middle of the night? Her shift is the same as my shift."

Jim laughs slightly, "When you've worked with her long enough you get used to Sidle not exactly keeping the same hours as everyone else."

I sigh, "She's going to burn herself out if she keeps doing stuff like this, Jim. The girl needs to sleep at least every once in a while."

Jim's line goes quiet before he laughs again slightly, "Yeah, I'll let you have that particular conversation with her. Good luck."

Shaking my head, I hang up, already grabbing my keys from my locker and heading out to my SUV.

* * *

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…" I curse, taking a deep breath while my hands rest on my knees. Guzzling more water, I don't even care that some of it has dripped down onto my jeans.

Straightening up, I stretch my sore limbs as I pass the first couple officers, nodding in greeting.

"I see they found the location our shooter was at."

Head jerking up in surprise, Sara looks at me over the camera she has around her neck.

"Catherine?"

"Would have been nice to have heard about the development from you. You know, since we're partners on this case and all."

"Sorry," Sara offers, but her voice is strained.

It's strange, but the woman who apologizes more than anyone I've ever met sounds like, for the first time since I've met her, she really isn't sorry at all. "My phone has no service up here."

In fact, her tone is clipped, almost angry.

"I noticed. During the multiple times I've been trying to reach you. Now straight to voicemail."

She looks up, her expression hard to read as her shoulders tense.

She doesn't bother apologizing again.

"Our guy was lying here, using this rock as shelter when he was shooting at us."

Her tone is direct, business-like. It shouldn't faze me, after all we're at work, but it seems off.

"You okay?" I ask, trying to grasp her seemingly sudden change in behavior towards me.

"I already processed the rock, the surrounding area. Found most of the bullet casings."

Her jaw is set, the muscles there working tightly.

"What can I do?" I ask. "You know, to help on the case I'm lead supervisor on."

Sara's eyes flash to mine.

"Like I said," she gets out. "I'm sorry. I heard they found the scene and I made a call to come out here and get a jump on processing. It was the middle of the night. I know you can't just leave Lindsey on a whim like that."

Her reasoning is sound, but there's definitely something underneath her tone. Something edgy and dark and not entirely benign.

She knows as well as I do that if she really wanted to get a hold of me, especially now that shift started, she could have.

"What's going on, Sara?" I ask her directly, arms crossing over my chest.

She stiffens, placing evidence bags into her CSI vest as she straightens up to her full height.

"I need to get these back to the lab."

As she moves past me, I grab her arm.

Whirling around, she pulls herself free.

"Don't touch me."

I shake my head, making sure Sara and I are still separated enough from the cops to keep this private.

"What the hell is your problem today, Sidle?" I question her.

"Nothing. Now can I please get these back to the lab?"

"No," I tell her. "Not until you discuss with me whatever the hell it is that's got you acting like this."

"No offense," Sara says tightly. "But it's none of your business. And it's not appropriate to be discussing now regardless."

I shake my head sadly, watching Sara's hard expression, the eyes that just yesterday seemed open enough for me to get glimpses into the woman behind them.

Now, they're cold. Angry. And completely unreadable.

"I thought we'd gotten somewhere yesterday," I say quietly, the sadness leaking into my tone. "I thought we were making progress."

Sara snorts, and the sound is harsh, mad.

"Yeah?" she asks darkly, fists clenched tightly. "So did I."

All but glaring in my direction, Sara steps widely around me, keeping her distance as she stalks off to start the long hike to our cars below.

* * *

It takes the entire rest of shift for me to catch Sara again. The younger CSI is brilliant at keeping herself away from me, always happening to have "just left" a room when I enter according to the person there. It's like she knows just the right places to be and not to be to keep me away from her.

But, there's one place that Sara can't avoid going.

And, sure enough, an hour after shift, Sara finally makes her way to her car. Her shoulders are slumped in exhaustion, and she rubs her temples as if fighting off a migraine. I know having trekked around the desert for hours and working essentially a double shift with how early she came in today has to have drained her. She barely sleeps as it is, and spending her waking hours hiking up damn canyons isn't going to help her at all.

When she reaches for her door handle, she catches sight of me out of the corner of her eye, hand stopping its motion.

"You can't be serious," she mutters, mostly to herself.

"You're not leaving until we talk about this," I tell her, stepping around the hood of her car so that I'm in plain view. "We're not doing this again, going back to you shutting me out and giving me the cold shoulder. We've come too far for that."

Sara shakes her head, "I have nothing to say to you."

"Sara," I call, moving forward until I'm nearly inches away from her, her own back pressed into her Jeep to give herself as much distance from me as possible. "Talk to me. Please."

I don't back down, and I see her getting more and more frustrated with every minute that passes.

"Please," she strains out through clenched teeth. "Get out of my way."

"Not until you talk to me," I counter, staying firmly planted in the way of her opening her door.

"Like I said, there's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit."

Sara's hands tighten dangerously around her keys.

"Move out of my way. Now."

"Or what, Sara?"

She tenses, her body looking as though she would like nothing more than to shove me away from her so that she has room to open her door. If she were anyone else, I'd be afraid of her doing just that.

But, this is Sara.

The person who was willing to get hit by my abusive ex to keep me protected. The person who has angry looking gashes across multiple parts of her body from where she tackled me and dragged me to safety, willing to get fucking shot if it meant keeping me protected.

The person, who for whatever reason, seems incapable of making her bark match her bite.

At least when it comes to me.

"Sara," I step even closer, our bodies now nearly flush against each other. "Please."

Jaw tight, she turns her head to the side, pressing it against her car window to keep as much room between us as physically possible.

"Willows," she grinds out. "Back the fuck off."

All attempts at professionalism have now left us, her words indicating a clear line between this interaction and her forced politeness this morning in keeping things professional while at our scene. This is after the end of shift. This is after hours. This is finally allowed to be personal.

"Why?" I counter. "So you can just run away and shut me out again? No thanks."

"You have a daughter to pick up, correct?" she asks tightly. "You can't stay here all evening blocking my Jeep."

I shake my head, trying to resist the urge to strangle the woman before me, at her infuriatingly stubborn behavior.

"Are you running because you finally shared some things about yourself with me?" I ask, grasping for answers at this point. "Shutting me out because you feared I was getting behind some of your walls?"

Sara doesn't answer, jaw tight and body remaining completely still.

I'm not going to get anywhere like this, the stubborn brunette willing to just wait me out until I need to leave to get Lindsey.

Deciding to force things forward, I reach out, turning her face towards mine.

And, that does it. Immediately, Sara flinches away from my touch, her strong shoulders pushing forward, trying to separate her body from mine.

My own body reacts immediately, purely on instinct as I grab her shoulders, pushing her back into her car before she can displace me. The thud her body makes is loud, echoing through the empty parking lot.

Before I can apologize for the force, I hear Sara's voice, low and cold.

"Get your hands off me."

"I let go as soon as you start talking."

It's not ideal. After everything Sara and I have been through together, putting my hands on her is the absolute last thing I want to be doing. But, my instincts kicked in before I could work through the situation rationally, and now I'm left holding her in place. While I'd rather not be in this position, I know the moment I relinquish it Sara will bolt. And, honestly, I'm worried that the consequences of that might be even worse.

"Fuck this…" Sara pushes her body against the metal frame of her Jeep, trying to get enough leverage to push me away.

Pushing her back just as strongly, I make the decision to keep her firmly in place.

I know this is a million miles from acceptable. But, I also know Sara Sidle. I know that if I allow her to walk away right now I may never get another chance. She'll block me out and keep giving me the silent treatment for ages to come, just like she did both during and after Gabe's case. If I'm going to get any answers, if Sara and I are ever going to move forward from this current cold avoidance, it has to be now.

"Stop," I call when I see her pressing tightly against her car to try to get away. I can see the parts of her body trapped between me and the metal, and I don't want her to hurt herself, not when she's already been banged up enough on this case.

"Sara, stop," I state again when I see her struggles continuing, her leg trapped awkwardly between me and the side rail of her car.

"Jesus," I call, feeling her body literally shaking with strain to get out from my grip. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

She laughs darkly, head slamming back angrily into her window in defeat as she finally concedes she doesn't have enough leverage to get herself away from me without my help.

"That's funny?" I ask tightly, my own anger soaking through my words.

"Coming from you?" Sara gets out. "Yeah, it is."

"Me caring about you is funny?"

Sara shakes her head, still pressed into the window.

"You _pretending_ to care about me is funny."

Her words are dark, angry, and so full of hatred that I almost loosen my grip. But, I hold on tightly, feeling like we're finally getting somewhere. She's trapped, and she knows there's no quicker way out of this than through it.

"Why do you think I only pretend to care?" I ask her tightly. "Because you're wrong, by the way."

Sara's eyes finally land on mine, her expression dead serious. Her gaze so stern that it cuts straight through me.

"Do you really have no idea what this is about?" she questions, voice almost disbelieving.

"Do you think I'd be doing this if I did?" I respond just as disbelieving.

Sara's eyes burn through mine, her hands clenching but staying as far away from me as possible, forcing herself not to touch me. Not to hurt me.

"You think I want to hear anything you have to say when you've done nothing but fucking lie to me this whole time?" she counters tightly. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

I wait in silence, not knowing how to respond even if I could find the words.

"You said you were done investigating me," Sara says coldly. "You said you dropped Gabe's case. That we were starting over. That you wouldn't fight my reinstatement."

Her jaw tightens so harshly that it looks painful.

"So why the hell do you need to pull my financials? My legal history? My medical files?" her eyes flash with anger. "My fucking foster care records?"

Hazel gaze burning into mine, I feel my breathing start to draw to a halt.

Holy shit.

"You really thought I wouldn't find out?" she asks again seriously. "That I wouldn't get a call from my lawyer that someone had been accessing my sealed records?"

She swallows tightly, like she's trying to keep her disgust at bay.

"That it wasn't easy to figure out from there where they were sent to? Or, more aptly, _who_ they were sent to."

This time, when she goes silent, she stays that way. Her body shaking with anger, frustration, disgust, and probably a thousand other things.

"I…"

My voice cuts off, like all ability to think, to speak, has been robbed from me.

All this time, facing this decision, I never considered the possibility that I was already caught – that the brunette was _already_ aware of what I'd done while the email was still sitting, waiting in my inbox for my decision regarding whether or not to open it. That it was already too late.

Pulling a stunt like this on someone who was deceased was one thing. A lot easier to get away with. Pulling this on someone like Sara Sidle is something else entirely. I should've known that the smartest person I ever met would be more than capable of figuring out that her personal information had been accessed, tampered with.

"I didn't…."

Sara nearly growls beneath me.

"Don't you dare," she says. "Don't you dare deny that you requested a fucking background check on me."

Her eyes are almost challenging, daring me to counter her claims.

"You requested everything available about me. My family's history, my foster system notes, my complete medical files. Everything."

"Yes."

My word is a mere whisper, acceptance of guilt for the transgression she already knew I'd committed.

The hurt, the devastation that I can now make out across her features is so much harder to take than the anger. She didn't need my confirmation, but the word serves as the final nail in the coffin, the final twist to the knife that was already lodged in her back.

Immediately, I let go of her.

I can't stand to see the emotional hurt in her eyes, coupling it with the physical hurt of keeping her pinned against her car is just too much.

God, how could I have even…

I keep my body close, but I take a full step back, letting her move away from the hard metal framework of her Jeep.

"Sara…"

My voice trails off, eyes barely able to lift to hers.

"I…"

Clearing my throat, I force my gaze to remain even with her own.

"What I was trying to say before…wasn't that I didn't do it, but that I didn't open it."

She stays quiet, my statement doing nothing to dilute the heavy emotions swirling in with the greens and browns of her eyes.

"I deleted the entire thing last night." I say. "I didn't read a word of it."

Sara lets out a small snort, eyes darkening.

"So that makes it okay?" she questions. "You pulled information about me that included everything about my childhood, my parents, my foster families. Things that have nothing to do with this job, with Gabe's case. Things that…"

She looks like she's torn between punching something and throwing up.

"And you think what you did is okay because you didn't open it?"

The tight laugh that leaves her lips gives me chills.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Willows."

"It's not okay," I counter, my voice wavering with all the thoughts and emotions sinking through me. "It's not okay at all."

I lower my head, breathing out tightly. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't…I didn't read any of it."

Her own breathing is tight, heavy, the silence stretching between us until she finally breaks it with a question spoken so quietly I almost miss it.

"Why?" she asks, so much hurt, so much betrayal bleeding out into the whispered word. "I thought you were okay with Gabe's case being closed. I thought…"

She struggles to finish.

"I thought you finally trusted me."

Her words cut straight through me, landing sharply in my heart, my conscience. Shredding apart my insides as I witness the devastation my actions have caused to the innocent person they involved. At the damage they've done to the very person I was trying so hard to keep from hurting yet again.

When I don't answer, she takes this as affirmation of her fears, starting to turn away.

"That's not it…" I call weakly, her body pausing slightly as she has her hand on the Jeep's door.

She doesn't face me, her head lowered.

"Then why?"

I pause, mind frantically searching a way to tell her the truth. Tell her the real reason I sought out her deepest and darkest secrets.

But, my pause lasts too long, the brunette shaking her head and stepping through the narrowly opened door of her Jeep, squeezing inside as she keeps the door millimeters from reaching me.

My mind racing, heart thundering in my chest, she's gone before I can catch my breath - let alone voice to her the thoughts, the feelings that I seek to express.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. You guys always brighten my day with your thoughtful words and comments - so a big thank you to everyone who reads and takes the time to review.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 33

_ "__First you jump off the cliff and you build wings on the way down."_

_-Ray Bradbury_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Damn it," clenching my phone tightly in my fist, I toss it angrily down onto my passenger seat. As much as I'd love to call Kelly to pick up Lindsey and chase after Sara right now, I can't.

Lindsey is my daughter, my first and primary priority in life. And, she deserves to be treated as such.

Plus, the added delay in seeing Sara may give me a chance to figure out just how in the hell I plan to approach this.

It's one thing to admit to yourself feelings that you're having towards someone else. That step is daunting enough. But, to be face to face with that very person? Having them watching you with such anger and disdain? It makes your heart feel like it's being clenched in a vice…and it certainly made my words freeze in my throat.

I was terrified to tell Sara my feelings for her under good circumstances. Now, having had my plan explode in my face, seeing up close Sara's anger and disgust at my actions - telling her my feelings for her now seems like a nearly impossible feat.

Like trying to cross bridges that have already been burnt to the ground, ashes scattered to the very ends of the Earth.

Pulling my SUV out of the CSI lot, I head towards Lindsey's school, trying my damndest to keep my focus on the road in front of me.

* * *

Sending the text message, I glance back up from my phone, listening to Gil's updates this morning on the other open cases in the lab. Since he and I are both joint supervisors of the night shift, it's important that I stay up to date not only on my own cases, but also on the other cases currently making their way through our lab.

Hearing the case summarizes and the current statuses of the other open investigations, I am once again impressed with this Vegas team that I'm fortunate enough to have been asked to work in.

The cases being summarized to me are all complex, not your standard B&amp;Es we fielded almost endlessly in Montana. These are true, devastating crimes that harbor a violence and malevolence that makes you wonder how humanity is capable of such inhuman acts against one another.

The progress already made on the cases, most of which are barely a shift old, along with the sheer volume of them, draws my admiration. Yet more proof that this team is composed of efficient, brilliant people who are dedicated to this work and to getting these cases solved for their victims.

Giving Gil my own updates, I feel my phone buzz.

_Sidle (6:13am): One casing from the shooter's location had a partial. Match to partial showed local gang member. Working with Brass to get location on suspect. File with his info on your desk._

Adding this update to the others, I send a quick reply as I talk.

_Willows (6:15am): Okay. Thank you. Contact me when you have a location._

Finishing with Gil, I push my phone back into my pocket, sighing at the one status update that has been giving me the most angst. The one that was not among those discussed with Gil.

Namely, the complete implosion of Sara and I's working relationship.

Or, more aptly, Sara and I's anything relationship. Our working relationship is perhaps the only place we're communicating – awkward and stilted updates, yes, but at least it's something.

While I spent the night with Lindsey, I came to a couple realizations. One is that I need to speak with Sara. I need to lay everything out to the brunette, no matter how daunting that task is. She deserves to know the truth behind my motives. And, then, it's up to her what she wants to do with that information.

Secondly, I came to the realization that Sara herself likely needs some space to cool down. I violated her privacy in perhaps the most harsh of ways, and she deserves time and space from me right now. So, I didn't even approach her when I arrived this morning to find her hunched over one of the tables in the back, taking notes on our latest evidence from the shooter's scene in the desert. I left her alone, walking by silent and unnoticed.

Instead of direct interaction today, I've been texting her occasionally for updates.

Which, speaking of, I feel my phone buzz again.

_Sidle (6:42am): Got location. Brass and I ready to head out._

It's a question, a request.

And, I give her what she wants.

_Willows (6:43am): I'll stay here and work the other evidence. Be safe, stay with Brass._

She doesn't respond, and I don't expect her to.

Sighing, I complete the journey to the evidence locker, hoping to make some contributions of my own to this case.

* * *

"That bad?"

Brass groans, watching our colleague pacing angrily along the back wall of the interrogation room.

"Worse."

Straightening up, Brass turns his eyes to mine.

"Disrespectful bastard thinks he's the king of this town. That the law can't touch him."

"He right?"

"Pretty much," Brass states, frustration evident in his tone. "At least for now."

"Partial wasn't enough to bring him in?"

Brass shakes his head, "Partial match percentage was too low. Even on a good day would get thrown out of court. We need something more."

"And I'm sure he had alibis for everything."

"Of course," Brass snorts. "His guys were nearly falling over themselves to say he was with them."

"They want to impress their gang leader."

He nods, turning to watch Sara as she stops her pacing long enough to slam her fist angrily into the wall next to the back observation mirror.

"You think it's him?" I ask, though Sara's angered reaction already having given me my answer.

"Yes," Brass confirms. "He's definitely the bastard who took shots at the two of you."

Watching Sara's lowered head, her fist now clenched angrily where she's leaned against the wall, I nod.

"Then we nail him."

* * *

"You okay?"

Immediately, Sara jerks upright, her body standing to her full height before she turns around.

"Yes." Her eyes give nothing away. "Brass fill you in?"

I nod, only stepping slightly further into the room, not wanting her to feel crowded. After all, I'm sure she sought out this back interrogation room for the privacy it offered. Not having expected Brass and I to follow her back here. Brass left to work on his own tasks, but I wanted to check in with Sara before doing so myself.

"We have our guy," I say tightly. "That's the important thing. Now we just have to prove it."

Sara laughs darkly, "Right. With what evidence? Not to mention those guys are so protected in their fucking gang that we can barely get anyone to say a word that isn't them lying out their asses to protect this guy."

"Then we find another way."

Sara's eyes flash to mine, her fist clenching open and shut.

"Right." The tone is tight, forced.

"Look, Sara," I state evenly. "This progress is huge. Just yesterday we had no idea who this guy even was. Now, we have a name. Marcus James Kline. Now, we have a direction."

She meets my gaze, not backing down.

"A direction that heads straight into a brick wall."

"We knew this guy was likely part of a Vegas gang. One of the biggest and well protected. So, now we've confirmed it. Nothing's changed. We go after him just like we have been until we nail him."

Sara swallows, looking away from me as she tightens her grip on the table between us.

I understand Sara's anger, completely. Though Montana certainly didn't have the same gang presence that Vegas does, it had its own share of crime families and citizens that thought the law didn't apply to them. Well protected people who thought they were untouchable. My interactions with those types of people were always infuriating, leaving me with such a vile taste in my mouth. Their arrogance and complete disregard for other people making my skin crawl.

And, those people never tried to take a shot at me, literally.

Sara's interaction with this man, who tried to blow her head off with a sniper riffle just days before, had to have been beyond vexing. To look him in the eye, confirming he's the man behind that scope, and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

For now.

"We'll get him, Sara," I tell her, repeating back to her the very words she gave to me not long ago.

Having calmed down enough to perhaps realize where she is and who she's there with, she gets quiet. Very quiet.

Motioning to the door that I'm semi blocking, she's no longer meeting my eyes.

"If that's all, I'd like to get back to work."

I watch her, knowing there's nothing really I can do or say. Sara's going to keep avoiding me as much as possible, and that's just going to be how it is right now. But, we need to talk. What she does with the information I tell her is still her decision, and she may very well chose to keep avoiding me after that. But, she needs to know everything.

"Can we talk?" I ask quietly, keeping my voice low. "Not now. Not here. But, Sara, there's things we need to discuss."

"I have nothing more to say to you," Sara states lowly.

"Well I have something I need to say to you."

Sara's body is tense, and I'm sure that if I weren't blocking the door she would've walked out on me by now.

"You deserve an explanation," I tell her quietly. "For what I did."

Sara's head shakes darkly. "I don't think there's an explanation in the world that can make what you did okay."

"There isn't," I confirm. "I messed up. Big time. But, you deserve to know the entire truth behind it. There are things about me, about what I did that you need to know, Sara."

She looks up, her eyes meeting mine but remaining silent.

"I know you don't trust me, and I can't blame you. But, please, just let me speak my peace and then you never have to hear about it again. You can go on avoiding me and hating me, but at least you'll have all the information."

Her jaw is tight, the words barely making their way out.

"When?"

I hesitate, but force myself to not lose my courage. "Tonight. My place."

Sara shakes her head.

"The bar we had Greg's birthday at."

I nod, respecting her wish for neutral ground. I'm lucky enough she's even giving me this opportunity, the brunette has every right to dictate the details.

"See you there after shift."

* * *

By the time Sara walks into the bar, it's a good hour after the end of shift.

She spots me rather easily, the crowd being very scant this time of day.

Sliding into the booth across from me, she keeps her gaze on the table.

"Sorry I'm late."

She doesn't give an explanation, and her words are half-assed. I know her well enough to figure she's likely been out in the parking lot debating whether to come inside.

"It's okay."

Taking a deep breath, I glance around, glad that the bar is mostly empty. I didn't exactly picture this being the place to have this particular conversation, but I guess it's going to have to be as good as any.

Ordering some drinks as the waitress appears, we sit in silence until they arrive.

"You wanted to talk?" Sara says after we've had a few swallows.

Nodding, I put my own drink down.

"I'm so sorry for what I did, Sara," I start. Knowing it needs to be restated. That it can never be stated enough.

"We've had this conversation."

Hearing the underlying message behind her statement, I understand her desire not to spend this evening hearing more empty apologies.

"Can we…" I swallow, glancing around. "Can we take this outside?"

Perhaps keying into the slight tremor in my tone, Sara's brows furrow, the brunette perhaps not expecting to have identified such nervousness coming from me.

Sensing the seriousness of my request, she eventually stands, getting to her feet and leading the way out to the back alley she and I shared cigarettes in that night of the party.

The alley is just as secluded now as it was then.

Taking a long swallow from her drink, Sara turns around, facing me as she places her shoulder against the wall.

Deciding this is it, that I need to just go for it, I'm glad I left my own drink back inside. I need to get this out now, and I need to not use it as a crutch.

"You thought I ran the background check on you because I don't trust you. That's not it at all, Sara. I trust you more than I trust anyone here, to be honest. Even more than Gil."

Sara laughs darkly.

"Right."

I push on, not letting myself be deterred.

"The background check wasn't because of Gabe's case. Wasn't because of anything work related."

I pause, trying to get past the tight lump growing in my throat, the hammering in my heart at what I'm about to do. What I'm about to reveal.

"I wanted to know about you, about the things you were hiding. For personal reasons."

Sara's jaw tightens, her eyes burning into mine.

I push forward, letting the words come out before I can censor them.

"I didn't want to make the same mistake Kelly did."

Now, Sara's eyes narrow, confusion filtering in through her anger.

"What are you talking about, Catherine?"

It's strange, but her use of my first name after all that's transpired between us gives me a small push of courage.

"You told Kelly she would change her mind about pursuing a relationship with you if she knew your secrets. Knew who you really were."

Sara's eyes search mine.

"You said that was my business," Sara bites out. "Between me and Kelly."

"I'm not interfering between you and Kelly," I say. "Kelly made her decision. That's done. This has nothing to do with you and her." I pause, forcing my voice to continue my statement. "This has to do with you and _me_. With me not doing what Kelly did to you a second time."

Sara's eyes narrow even further, the brunette shaking her head.

"I don't understand."

"Sara," I breathe out, my voice lowering to a volume that's just barely audible. "I didn't want to tell you how I feel only to back out on you like she did."

Sara watches me, eyes flickering between each of mine, trying to find some clarity, some answer to what I'm saying.

"How you feel?" she asks, her own voice lowering in volume as she takes a slight step away from me.

"I think…" I force the words to come out, to not choke me as they struggle past my throat, not when I've already come this far. "I think I'm falling for you."

Sara's expression is frozen, unreadable, her eyes locked on mine as she seems to completely stop all movement.

"What?" she gets out, voice now practically a whisper.

"I think I'm falling for you," I repeat, my own tone so strained it's shaking. "I didn't want to tell you until I was sure I wanted to pursue something. Until I knew whatever the hell it was that turned Kelly away. I couldn't have you go through that type of rejection a second time."

Sara's eyes are wide, her body still frozen as her mind tries to catch up with what it is I'm telling her. Clearly, this is not at all what she expected me to be saying tonight.

"How…when…?"

I shake my head, "I never meant for this to happen. I was as surprised as you are, Sara. But, I can't ignore it anymore, pretend I don't feel the way I do about you."

Sara swallows, finally looking away as she takes another step back.

"I…" she struggles, her voice seemingly failing her.

"It's okay," I state quietly, gently. "You don't have to respond. I don't expect you to. I just wanted you to know that the reason I ran that check was to be sure of how I felt about you, _all _of you, before I told you I was interested. You needed to know it wasn't because I didn't trust you or respect you. Quite the opposite."

Sara's head is lowered, her eyes almost completely obstructed in shadow from the dim alley lighting.

It's clear she's shocked by this revelation, by this turn of events. And, I expected no less.

Knowing she needs time to process, I take my own step back, giving her even more space.

"I'm going to go," I tell her gently. "You need some time."

Watching her, I pull my keys and some money from my pocket to leave on the table on my way out.

"I don't expect an answer, Sara," I tell her. "That isn't what this is about. It's okay if you don't feel the same. I just…"

I pause, taking a deep breath.

"I just wanted you to know."

Giving her one last look, I turn away, disappearing back through the door and into the bar.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: Thanks everyone for your continued support of this story. Didn't want to leave you with last chapter's cliffhanger for too long, so tried to get this chapter posted as soon as I could :)**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 34

_"We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails."_

_Unknown Source_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"I'm sorry?"

The voice repeats the statement, crackled slightly due to the poor reception. The words are exactly the same.

They're just as hard to take in this second time around.

"Where is she?"

Hearing the response, my fingers tense around my cell phone, probably pretty damn close to breaking it.

"Keep her there, I'm on my way."

Hanging up, Kelly's eyes are anxiously on mine, her hand frozen on the tv remote which she's used to pause our movie.

"I, uh…" I trail off, running a hand through my hair. "I need to run out for a second."

Lindsey looks up, her eyes starting to narrow with worry as I can't quite mask my expression under my current state.

Noticing, Kelly immediately unpauses the movie, my daughter's attention quickly diverting back to the screen with her favorite characters.

Getting up, Kelly wordlessly takes me by the arm, directing us into the privacy of the kitchen.

"Catherine, what's going on?"

"I…" taking a deep breath, I swallow tightly. "That was Captain Brass from work. He…"

Finally meeting Kelly's gaze, I feel my stomach clenching tightly.

"There was an incident. At work. With Sara."

"What…" Kelly trails off. "What kind of incident? And isn't she off shift like you?"

She's supposed to be, I think to myself. But, she's Sara Sidle. I have no doubt that Sara probably went home briefly after our exchange at the bar, only to head back into the lab a few hours later. Sara was clearly thrown by what I confessed to her in that alley, and one thing Sara likes to do when she feels out of sorts is to drown and distract herself in her work.

"They apparently brought in a suspect in one of our cases…the one from the shootings. They were trying to make him nervous by bringing him in for a formal interrogation at the station, make him flustered enough to hopefully screw up."

I shake my head, not knowing whether the anger, the fear, the anxiety, or some other emotion I can't name is currently taking the top rank.

"What happened?" Kelly's own voice is definitely being led by fear.

Things between her and Sara have been strained, to say the least. Both pretty much having been avoiding each other ever since their decision to part ways. Or, more Kelly's decision.

But, I know Kelly still cares for the brunette, it's easy enough to read in her eyes, in the fear right now saturating her voice. They may not be on great terms, but Kelly will always care for the person she fell so deeply, so quickly for.

"Catherine?"

Brought back to the moment, I shake my head. "He was vague about details. Something about the suspect making threats, Sara reacting violently. Him responding in turn."

"She went after him?" Kelly says with wide eyes.

Yes, Sara has a temper, anyone who knows her likely has picked up on that. But, Sara's always lashed out at herself – hitting walls, lockers, the side of her car.

Never at someone else.

But, something tells me Sara isn't exactly in the best place right now. Hasn't been for a while, really. And, it hasn't even been a full 8 hours since our conversation in the alley, since the latest revelation to crash into her world.

Something tells me right now the brunette is under a lot of strain, a lot of emotions and things going on in her life that are putting her more than a little on edge. She's gasoline right now, and all she needed was a spark.

"Is she alright?" Kelly asks, getting to the true question we're both clearly worried about.

"Brass said she's okay, but refuses care to confirm."

"Fucking idiot," Kelly gets out, shaking her head at the stubborn behavior that is characteristically Sara.

Looking up, she shakes her head, "Why did he call you then?"

I sigh, "He needs to release her to a supervisor. Either me or Gil. Since it's involving my case…"

"He chose you."

I nod, and I'm glad he did. If Gil was the one getting this call…

Grabbing my keys from the counter, I pull on my coat.

"I'm so sorry, Kelly," I state sincerely. "I owe you so much."

"No worries," she reassures me. "Just be safe. And try to force some sense into Sara."

I laugh lightly, "Yeah, right."

* * *

"Take me to her. Now."

Brass gestures down the hall, to the middle interrogation room.

There's so much that needs to be said, be addressed. But, right now, I need to see her.

Making my way down the hall, I stop short when I see the streaks of crimson along the linoleum.

"Already been processed," Brass tells me, staying steps behind to give me some privacy. "It's all clear."

No longer worried about disturbing what is now essentially a crime scene, I complete my path to the doorway. Peering through the glass, I take a deep breath before entering.

When I see her, I have to close my eyes to steady myself.

She's here, she's alive, she's not lying in some pool of blood.

But, she does have blood on her, splashes on her shirt, her arms.

"Sara."

Her head is lowered, her gaze on the flooring.

"Sara," I call again, moving to her side of the room. "Look at me."

She hesitates, finally looking up when the silence stretches to almost painful lengths.

Her eyes are dark, guarded. There's an anger lying there, along with a small hint of guilt.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, needing to address the question that is my top priority at the moment.

"Yes."

"Sara."

"I'm fine."

"Fucking hell, Sidle," I call her out, moving closer. "I didn't get a call in the middle of the evening from Brass because you're fine. This isn't fine."

Seeing my gesturing to her clothing, she turns away.

"Most of it's his."

Breathing out, I shake my head. "Which of it isn't."

It's not a question. It's a demand.

Swallowing, Sara shakes her head again, taking a step back as I take one forward.

"It's me or the hospital."

Knowing I'm not messing around, that we're at work and this isn't something she can avoid dealing with her supervisor about, she eventually lets out a tight breath.

"He just…he caught me on the arm when I blocked him. There were already some cuts there…"

"From the desert."

Sara nods, eyes still on the flooring.

Looking her over, I note the area she's referring to, the slow trails of blood still moving down from the scrapes on her arm.

It's hard to tell what's old and what's new. Just like I do, Sara still has a number of gashes from the desert shooting.

"Where else?"

Sara doesn't answer, her head shaking slowly.

Narrowing my eyes, I reach out, pulling her chin upwards.

Flinching away from me, she backs up.

"Sorry," I offer, knowing better than to have tried to approach her so suddenly.

Waiting until her breathing slows, I let her see my intentions.

"Look at me," I order as I, this time slowly, gently tilt her chin up.

"Did he…?" I trail off, trying to see if I'm seeing what I think I might be, the lighting in the room shoddy at best. "Did you hit your head?"

Sara's eyes leave mine, and she swallows tightly.

"He had me against the wall."

"And…"

Sara sighs, "And he hit my head back into the glass. A…few times…"

Swallowing the bile in my throat, I shake my head.

"And you're refusing care, why?" I get out.

"I'm okay," she tells me, her own voice quiet, reserved.

Looking up, she finally meets my gaze voluntarily. "Catherine, I promise. I'm fine."

I breathe out, exhaustion and fear making a curious mix throughout my body.

"What the hell happened, Sara?" I lean against the edge of the table, trying to support my trembling body, adrenaline still rushing through me. "This isn't like you. Losing it in front of a suspect?"

Sara's jaw clenches, her body language telling me she isn't planning on expanding on tonight's events, nor what led to them.

Seeing the red lights in the corner of the room blissfully shining on, I know there' s more than ample video surveillance in this room to give me the answers I seek.

"Who struck first?" I ask the one question that I really need to know right now.

If it was Sara, there's not much that I can do no matter what Marcus Kline did or said. That's assault, and that's also immediate dismissal of our case. That's also immediate dismissal of Sidle as CSI.

Please, I beg the universe, don't let it all end this way. Everything between Sara and I, everything with this case. Just for Sara to end up kicked out of CSI and our suspect free to go.

"He…" Sara clears her throat. "He had a concealed knife on him…somehow…he…"

"Who struck first?"

I push, the question direct and clear. She knows what I'm asking, but she's hesitating to answer.

God, no...

Please no...

"He did," a voice unexpectedly cuts in from the doorway.

Seeing Brass joining us, he steps up alongside the table, his eyes on Sara's though he's addressing me.

Now, Sara refuses to look anywhere but the wall, all gazes in the room directed at her while she meets none.

"Sounded like on the phone it wasn't so straightforward…" I lead, knowing Brass understands damn well what I'm saying. On the phone it sounded like Sara may have been the first to go after our guy. While I want to protect Sara as much as anyone, we can't sweep this under the rug if she struck first.

"He…," Brass straightens up, for the first time the rage in his own expression coming through. Sara wasn't the only one in this interrogation room tonight. "He spit at her. And, before I could move, he had a knife pressed to her thigh under the table."

If the bile wasn't already in my throat before, it certainly would be now.

"You'll see the rest in the video," he states tightly, not having the stomach to describe anything further. And, for that I'm thankful.

I understand the idea behind Brass and Sara's approach tonight - when evidence is limited and a case is going nowhere, sometimes you have to try to shake some trees, wiggle the branches until something slips out. Until someone slips up.

Their last interaction with Marcus Kline was in the streets of Vegas, in his territory. They wanted to show him who has control, rile him out of his sense of security, force his hand or force a mistake.

But, I can't help but curse inwardly at the risk they took. The collateral damage that their approach almost cost them - namely their safety.

"He getting booked?" I ask.

Brass nods, "But with his connections, he'll be out within a week."

"Then we have a week to get the real case against him closed," I state, turning to Sara. "You and I, Sidle. We have one week to get this bastard and make sure he stays in his new iron barred house for the rest of his sorry life."

Eyes moving up to mine, Sara takes a deep breath as she finally meets my gaze. The dark motivation harbored there gives me all the agreement I need.

* * *

"I'm sorry Brass called you," Sara says quietly, her head resting back against my passenger seat. "I know you have Lindsey. I asked him not to."

"I'm your supervisor," I tell her. "He had no choice."

Sara doesn't comment, and she knows that information just as well as I do.

"Plus," I say, voice lightening slightly. "I probably would've had some questions regarding why our suspect was now in booking when I showed up to work in the morning anyway."

Sara lets out a slight laugh, barely audible but just enough for me to hear.

"He…"

I trail off, trying to get my mind to form the words I want.

"He was threatening me."

Sara looks away, gaze focused out the window into the dark Vegas night. She already knows this information, too.

"In that video," I continue. "When things started going poorly. It's because he was threatening me. He even knew about Lindsey. Kelly."

I try to keep my fingers from clenching against the steering wheel, but it's impossible. My blood feeling like it's all but boiling in my body.

"He looked up who you and I were after the desert. My worst fears were right, he wanted to finish the job. It was like a game to him."

I shake my head, swallowing the sickening feeling oozing up my throat.

"He was going to go after us, but not before also going after the people we love."

Sara doesn't comment, but I note her own hands clenching tightly to her jeans.

"When he said what he did about Kelly...and about my little girl..."

I trail off, needing to take a few deep breaths.

"Thank you for not letting him get away with what he said."

Looking over at me in surprise, Sara's eyes are hard to read, her brows furrowed.

"I'm not condoning what happened," I quickly state, needing to make that clear. Both as her supervisor as well as her superior on this case. "But, if it had been me…"

I'd have reacted the exact same way Sara did. Probably even worse if I'm completely honest with myself.

While the video confirmed our suspect made the first move, Sara definitely said and did exactly what she needed to goad him into lashing out. She kept her composure enough to handle this legally, riling him just enough to make him snap so that she could finally respond to his vile words, his sickening threats.

And, respond she did.

Sara may be half the guy's size, but the girl can hold her own in a fight.

But, while she can hold her own, she's damn lucky she didn't get seriously injured. Marcus Kline isn't someone to mess with, ever.

She's lucky she was able to walk out of that room tonight.

"You need to stop making me see you like this."

Sara's brows furrow again.

"I've seen more of your blood on the outside of your body then I ever care to have seen," I state. "You need to stop this reckless vigilante bullshit you have going on right now."

Looking over, I watch her as we come to a stop outside her apartment building, my eyes burning with the fire behind my words.

"I know Gabe's case was devastating for you. I know there's been so much going on in your life this past year and a half. But, Sara, you can't keep this up. One of these times, your luck is going to run out."

I reach over, taking her arm gently in my hand, fingers running over the makeshift bandage we fashioned at the lab.

"You need to stop dealing with your issues this way. It's going to get you killed."

Sara's jaw is tight, her body rigid under my fingers.

When she doesn't reply, I finally pull away in defeat.

Kelly has been all but doting over me ever since the shooting in the desert. Every time we get together she's sure to check on the status of my injuries, looking over each cut along my skin to be sure it's healing properly and that I'm not in pain. I appreciate her concern, the warmth it gives me to know that someone cares that much for me. But, Sara right now looks exactly the opposite - like she wants nothing more than to bolt out of this car and get out from under my concerned gaze.

I was serious before, the brunette can't keep carrying on like this, carrying out this reckless abandon approach to life she has going on. Or, the next call I get from Brass isn't going to be informing me that she's okay.

Sara's clearly dealing with a lot right now, and she's even more clearly not dealing with it healthily. She's taking chances, taking risks, and honestly has been for a while. It's apparent that our own recent personal issues have spurred this latest reckless move, the brunette seemingly no longer giving a shit at all about personal safety.

While I want to broach the subject with her, get her to talk with me about all the things that are rushing through her head after our conversation, I promised myself I'd give her space. She deserves that much from me after the bomb of a revelation I dropped on her. I have no right to force her to talk about any of it, not until she's ready.

"I'll see you in the morning for shift," I offer her instead, giving her the escape she clearly wants as much as it pains me to do it.

Hand on the door handle, Sara pauses at the last minute, her eyes again focused into the night.

"Why?"

Confused at the question spoken by the otherwise silent brunette, I tilt my head. "Why what?"

"Why do you…" Sara trails off.

She turns slightly, her head angled towards me, but her eyes still on the darkness.

"Why do you think you have feelings for me?"

Holy hell.

I never in a million years thought she'd ask the question she just did, not yet. While I knew I had to wait for Sara to broach the topic herself, wait until she was ready, a part of me honestly wondered if she would ever be ready, or willing, to address the difficult issue currently hanging between us.

Sara can avoid topics and people better than anyone I've ever met. And, with the severity of the revelation I left her with, I honestly thought I'd be added to that avoided list for quite some time.

It's clear that the information I gave her is bothering her, weighing on her mind, and I know she's perceptive enough to know that it's weighing on mine as well. How could it not be? To reveal your feelings to someone in such a way, and then to angst over what their reaction to it all is?

I'm so glad that she is willing to brave broaching the topic for the sake of both of us.

"Why does anyone have feelings for anyone?" I answer seriously. "You can rationally explain why you like someone that you do. You just do."

"But why _me_?"

I take a deep breath, knowing I can easily go down this road if that's what she wants. What, perhaps, she needs. Sara's likely feeling confused and out of control about a lot of things right now. If I can provide her some clarity at least about my own thoughts and feelings regarding this issue, I am more than glad to do so.

"When we first met I hated you," I say evenly. "I'll be completely honest. I thought you were arrogant, secretive, cold. I thought you didn't give a shit about anyone or anything."

I watch her even though she refuses to watch me.

"But, it didn't take me long to see how wrong about you I was. How almost every move in your life was indeed calculated, but calculated to protect someone else. Just like tonight. Just like with Eddie. Just like in the desert. I realized you weren't arrogant or selfish at all, that you were in truth the most selfless person I've met. And, you were also probably the first person I've ever felt safe around in a very long time."

I trail off, trying to get my own thoughts and emotions to focus themselves into something coherent.

"There's a strength about you, Sara, emotionally and physically, that draws me in. Makes me feel safe when I'm around you. Makes me want to be near you. You have such a unique way of looking at the world, at the people in it. It makes me want to know so much more about you, about this person with a hard and stoic outside that can't quite hide the true deepness, the true gentle soul inside.

"Then, of course, there's physical things, the fact that I find you stunningly beautiful," I offer, trying to hide the blush on my cheeks, but realizing it doesn't matter when she's refusing to look at me anyway. "And a lot of other physical things I won't go into lest it be construed as harassment in the workplace."

I smile slightly before focusing again.

"Bottom line is when Kelly told me she cared for you, that she was going to try to pursue something with you…" I shake my head. "I realized then how much I'd come to care about you. I was so…_jealous_…of my best friend. I realized that my feelings towards you went beyond what I thought they did."

I take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable," I say sincerely. "I'm your superior at work, and it's not something that I should likely have even allowed myself to be thinking, let alone considering pursuing. But, I did. And you know the rest."

Sara's so quiet that I can hear the crickets chirping in the night around us.

"Have you told Kelly?"

Her question is quiet, but audible.

"No," I answer her honestly. "I didn't plan on telling her until I knew there was even something to tell. I didn't know if I would feel the same way about you after learning your past, so I didn't want to open up an issue with Kelly only to decide not to pursue something with you like she did. Also, even if I still felt the same way about you after I learned your past, I still didn't know whether you even had any similar feelings towards me. Didn't want to place my friendship with Kelly in jeopardy when both my feelings and yours were still unknown."

Sara's head lowers, the brunette moving her feet tightly against the carpeted flooring of my SUV.

"I…"

She trails off into a long, tense silence. A tense silence that seems to answer to my open ended statement all on it's own.

"It's okay," I offer when I can no longer take the crushing silence, trying to keep my voice neutral when I feel like the words are choking me. "Like I said the other day, I didn't tell you my feelings for you to feel obligated to reciprocate. You simply needed to know why I did what I did. You don't owe me anything, Sara, and it's okay that you don't feel the same way about me. I understand."

The night falls back to silence, the darkness around us feeling both protective and oppressive.

Sara finally pulls the door handle, stepping out of my car.

"Thanks for the ride," she barely gets the words out, her own voice sounding strangled.

Nodding, trying to keep the devastation slowly seeping through my heart under control, at least until I'm alone and can fall apart in private.

I gesture towards her building.

"Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning."

Sara nods, shutting her door and walking away.

If nothing else, it's closure. It's devastating, and it's heart wrenching, but it's finally clear. I took a chance on these feelings I had, and it didn't work out. It hurts, thinking of the hopes I'd had regarding possibly pursuing something with Sara gone before they even had a chance to go anywhere.

It's an utterly painful truth to learn.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice Sara is still standing a few steps away, her back to me as she appears almost frozen in place.

Puzzled, I roll down the window on her side.

"Everything okay?"

She remains still, not moving. Then, finally, she angles her head over her shoulder towards me, eyes glinting off the pale light of the moon.

"What you assumed before when I didn't say anything…" she says quietly. "About me not feeling the same way."

Her eyes lift to pierce through mine, her gaze for the first time staying fixed with my own.

"You're wrong, Catherine. We have more in common regarding our feelings than you think."

With that, she turns away, disappearing into the night as she ascends the path to her building.

Holy shit.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. You guys always brighten my day reading your words - your support means the world and keeps the inspiration going.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 35

_"Knowledge of what is does not open the door directly to what should be." _

Albert Einstein

* * *

CATHERINE POV

_Willows (5:31am): You already at the lab?_

_Sidle (5:33am): Yes._

_Willows (5:35am): Why did I even bother asking? Kelly is taking Linds away for a bit. I'm on my way in. I want this guy out of our lives. ASAP._

_Sidle (5:36am): Agreed. You okay? It's really early…_

_Willows (5:38am): Can't sleep while this guy is in danger of walking. What type of overly sugared coffee drinks is your favorite?_

_Sidle (5:40am): What?_

_Willows (5:40am): You heard me._

_Willows (5:44am): SIDLE. I'M WAITING. I'm buying you a damn coffee and I am NOT taking no for an answer._

_Sidle (5:45am): All caps. Never good. I guess…caramel latte? If you really insist._

_Willows (5:45am): Perfect. See you in a few._

_Sidle (5:46am): Ok. Uh, thanks?_

* * *

"How's it going?"

Sara looks up as I enter the back lab she's in, putting down her pen and rubbing her temples.

"I keep hoping I'll see something new, figure out some new connection…"

"We'll get him."

Sara nods slowly at the words that seem to have become our unofficial mantra, letting out a breath as she looks up at the coffee being extended in front of her face.

"Thanks," she says. "You really didn't have to. But…it's appreciated. A lot."

Taking the cup, she downs a few swallows, her eyes closing briefly.

"Glad I got you the largest size," I comment as I sit myself across from her. "You look exhausted. How long have you been here?"

Sara opens her eyes, shrugging as she looks down at her watch.

"A while."

"Can't sleep either?"

Sara's eyes are hard to read when she lifts them back up to mine.

"Something like that."

The silence between us stretches on, the lab around us equally as soundless in this off hour. It's her, me, and a few random other people who never come to this part of the lab anyway. It's somewhat peaceful in its own way, and I can see why Sara likes getting here at these early hours to work. No distractions, no other obligations – just you and your case.

But, this particular early morning, there _is_ another distraction here with us.

It's the other reason I suspect both Sara and I had trouble sleeping last night.

Knowing Sara's preference for avoidance when it comes to discussing her own feelings, I know she'll remain silent on the subject if left to her own devices. It was one thing for her to come out and confess what she did last night when I dropped her off, it's another thing entirely to expect her to bring it up again the very next morning under her own volition.

I came in early today to catch a killer, not discuss personal matters. But, I know myself well enough to know that I won't be able to fully focus on the former until I at least acknowledge the latter. To not leaving it hanging awkwardly and unspoken between us like it is right now.

"About what you said…" I start, hesitantly clearing my throat. I know there's no easy way to broach this, it just has to be put out in the open. "What you said last night."

Sara glances up, her eyes meeting mine before they return to study the lid on her coffee. She looks like she was half expecting this topic, for me to not be able to sweep it under the rug or wait until after shift to say something. She appears almost resigned to it, eyes downcast as she waits silently for me to continue.

"Did you mean it, Sara?"

This has Sara's eyes lifting back up to mine in surprise, her hazel gaze narrowing.

"Of course," she says, voice quiet. "Of course I meant it."

Sara's always been honest, sincere in her words, and she's likely wondering why I would question her now. And question her about something as important as this.

"I just want to be sure," I tell her. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to say something like that because you felt bad…for me…"

Sara shakes her head, "Catherine, I would never lead you on or fabricate something like that. I'd hope you know me better than that."

I let out a breath, nodding as I reach across the table to take her free hand in mine. Giving it a squeeze, I try to ignore the jolt of energy that seems to radiate from our joined hands.

"I do," I confirm. "I know you're better than that. And, I guess that's part of the problem."

I shake my head, lowering my own eyes to watch my fingers as they intertwine with hers.

"I always end up with the idiots," I state tightly. "It's only the liars, the cheaters, the Eddies, that seem to make their way into my life. To have feelings for someone like you, and then to have those feelings reciprocated?"

I let out a deep breath.

"It's just a little hard for me to trust in what's happening, what I'm hearing."

Sara's quiet, and I'm worried that I've shared too much.

Then, she tightens her grip on my hand, her thumb slowly running across my knuckles.

"Then trust me," Sara says quietly. "If you can't trust yourself, then trust me. Trust that I could never find it in me to give you anything but honesty, especially about something as important as this."

I look up, seeing her expression the most open I've seen it in a very long time. She's letting me see through her normally guarded gaze to what's underneath.

To the genuine sincerity that's underneath.

Squeezing her hand, I feel some of the weight leaving my shoulders. I know, deep down, this was one of my biggest concerns after she walked away last night.

"Thank you," I tell her.

She nods, giving my hand a final squeeze before she pulls back.

I know that one elephant's out of the room, but there definitely remains another.

"I know my feelings for you, Catherine," Sara says, this time the one to address the other elephant. "But I'm not sure you know your feelings for me."

"Because I don't know you," I finish for her. "Not the real you. Not well enough."

Sara nods, her eyes becoming heavier, the walls pushing themselves back up as she taps at the coffee in her hands.

"So how do we fix that?" I ask.

I messed up before, beyond description. How I went about solving this particular issue was inappropriate and misguided. But, acknowledging that now doesn't do anything to remedy the fact that the initial problem is still there.

"I don't…" Sara shakes her head, letting out a long breath that again reveals a deep exhaustion beneath it. "I don't know. What I did with Kelly…I don't know if I can…"

She runs a hand through her dark hair, jaw tight.

"I don't think I can look you in the eye and share those things…not again…"

I want to curse my friend, whom I love so dearly, for the way that she's impacted this strong person in front of me. I know Sara told Kelly the things she did for the very purpose of giving Kelly the choice of being with her or not. But, the damage Kelly did by making the decision she did is clear to read in the brunette's tense expression.

I can't blame Sara in the least for not wanting to go through that again. And especially not with someone she'll have to see every day for the foreseeable future.

Kelly was hard enough, and at least Kelly she can pretty easily avoid after getting her emotions dragged through the mud.

Me?

Not so much.

"We'll figure it out," I tell Sara, resisting the urge to reach out to her again.

Sara's not a touchy person on a good day, and she's particularly not touchy when she's as tense as she is right now. I don't think I can handle watching her flinch away from me, not after everything we've been through.

So, instead, I sit back, holding my own coffee instead of the hands I'd much rather be holding.

"I guess, for right now, we should make sure we have a future to worry about," I offer, allowing the change in direction that it looks like she wants. "We won't have anything to angst over if we're not alive to be doing it."

Sara squares her shoulders, leaning her elbows on the table. Looking up, her eyes hold the thanks for allowing the topic to drop right now.

There are a lot of decisions to be made, and it's not practical to think they can all be made in this moment. We made a huge step forward between us last night, and for now I'm going to have to be satisfied with that.

"You said Lindsey is away with Kelly?"

"Yeah," I nod, refocusing my thoughts on the case. "That man and the vile threats he made. I'm not naive enough to think that his reach is hindered by him being in a cell for the moment. That man has connections so deep that there's likely dozens of guys ready and willing to carry out whatever whim he desires, even while he's behind bars."

I clench my fists.

"Hell, he's probably even more motivated to do so now after..."

Sara swallows, jaw tightening as she looks down at my words.

"Hey," I state. "Look at me."

Sara pauses, but eventually she lifts her gaze to mine.

"I'm not blaming you," I tell her sternly. "Don't even think that for a second. He smuggled a knife into interrogation and sat there spewing threats against all our lives. What happened from there is a result of his own actions. You did nothing wrong."

"He…"

"It's. Not. Your. Fault." I press, allowing no room for argument. "He was already threatening us. You did what you had to do."

Sara's eyes leave mine to the evidence displayed before us, and I see her let out a shaky breath.

"Speaking of," I lean down, trying to catch her eyes. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Sara smiles slightly, shaking her head. "Like I said yesterday, I'm fine."

"Sara."

Her eyes close briefly, but she remains quiet.

"Honey…"

Letting out a breath, I hate this limbo that we're in.

We've established that we have feelings for one another, but we aren't anything to each other yet. She's not mine to comfort, not mine to help. As much as I desperately want to.

"I'm okay," she gets out, her own voice tight as she struggles with her own emotions.

Clearing her throat, she gestures to the table.

"I can fill you in on what I've done so far…"

Watching her a moment more, I let out a breath. Then, straightening up, I allow the second change in topics.

Allow the final request to focus fully on our case for the rest of this day. And possibly the foreseeable days after.

Sara and I have a lot yet to discuss, to figure out regarding whatever the hell is going on between us. But, first, we really do need to be sure we're alive for it to matter.

Nodding, I grab the extra pen and paper sitting between us.

"I'm ready."

* * *

Tossing my keys on my counter, I quickly strip off my blouse, already half undressed before I make it to the bathroom.

This stop home is meant to be quick. Just enough time to get a brief shower, food, and some rest. Then, it's back to the case. While shift would normally be over by now, I think this case is a very valid and appropriate reason to be pulling a double. Nothing like death threats by a psychotic gang leader for motivation.

We have limited time before our guy is out on bail, and we need to make the most of it. Once he leaves our custody, I have a deep seeded feeling that he isn't going to be within our grasp again.

After I'm finished with my shower, I make a quick detour to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of wine to help me relax before laying down for a quick nap.

When I find myself tossing and turning nearly an hour later, however, I know it will take me a lot more than some white wine to stop all the thoughts running through my head.

And, to be honest with myself, only a minority right now are related to the case.

When I'm at work it's easy enough to focus on the case because Sara and I are both diligently working it from every angle, understanding the importance of getting this closed as quickly as humanly possible.

But, the second I'm alone, away from the lab?

I mean, in all sincerity, how am I supposed to be able to sleep when I just learned that Sara Sidle reciprocates my feelings, confirmed and reiterated by Sara herself this morning. But, we're trapped in this in between of not being able to do anything about it or pursue it until this damn case is finished.

Not only that, I'm worried that even once this case is finished there's nothing I can do on my end to progress things forward. The next move has to be Sara's. She's the one with the information needed to take the next step, literally the only one who can get us out of the limbo that we're in.

And, let's be honest. Sara is one of the most private and reclusive people I know. She tends to hide behind her walls, only stepping out from behind them when completely necessary. I'm worried that her revelations so far have already taxed her to damn near her breaking point. The next steps required are going to be even harder on the brunette, and I'm worried that she's going to retreat back into herself.

Going to say enough is enough right now after everything she's already been through.

And, honestly, I couldn't blame her if she did. It's selfish to expect or to ask anything further of the woman who's literally been through hell this past year. To expect her to yet again put herself aside and make herself vulnerable to someone else.

I just wish there was a way to relax her fears, to comfort her that her feelings, her emotions, her everything, are safe in my hands.

Sighing, I take a last large swallow of wine, turning out my light and forcing myself to try to quiet my thoughts enough to get some sleep.

One day, one step, one minute at a time.

It's the only way we're all going to get through this.

* * *

"I think I have something."

Sara's eyes move up to mine briefly before they focus back down on the printouts before her.

"Really?" I question, eyebrows raising in surprise as I step further into the lab. This is not what I expected to greet me when I walked in this morning.

Not at all.

For the last three days, Sara and I have been repeating the same pattern. Show up at an ungodly hour, stay until an equally ungodly hour, get frustrated at the sheer lack of progress, go home briefly, and then show up and do it all again.

It's been exhausting, infuriating, and complete hell.

Sara nods, jarring me from my thoughts as she gestures to the paperwork splayed out on both the table and the walls.

All I see is a lot of math. A lot of equations.

"Sara?" She looks over at me. "I'm going to need some explanation. Not all of us were taking doctorate level mathematical theorem courses at Harvard."

Sara blushes slightly, her head nodding as she clears her throat.

Gesturing to the printout nearest her, she slides it across the table to me.

"The original report on the partial print we found on the casing from the desert."

I nod, glancing over the page that I've already seen.

"Twenty seven percent match."

Sara nods, "Low match. Even on a good day, never hold up in court."

I nod, knowing percentage matches need to at least be in the 90's to be taken at all seriously.

"But the twenty seven percent isn't representative of likelihood."

I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The twenty seven represents what?"

I shrug, "The percentage in common with his actual print that's in the system. Twenty percent overlap with his reference print."

"Right," Sara nods. "So it represents how closely it matches to his known print. Not the likelihood that it's his."

"You lost me."

"Think about it," she explains. "It matches his print at a twenty seven percent level. But, how likely is this print to have been someone else's? That's what really matters, yes? When I ran this print through the system there were no other partial matches."

She looks up at me.

"What percentage of the US population is in CODIS?"

I think back to the latest stats. "Around mid-thirties when you factor in those in national databases that include military or other non-criminal adjuncts of the database."

Sara nods, "So by that fact alone we've reduced the potential for this print to be someone else's by thirty percent. When you factor in the frequency of this print pattern, tented arches, in the general population, we can reduce it even further."

Starting to catch on, I nod, working it through my head. "So it's a twenty seven percent match to him, but we treat it like DNA. What is the actual percentage likelihood that it could be someone else's."

Sara nods.

"Still seems like there would be too many people in our denominator," I say, working the numbers. "For us to be able to say with certainty this print is his."

Sara nods, a slight smile growing on her lips.

"It is," she agrees. "Seven hundred and forty two people to be exact."

She gestures behind her to some of the equations scrawled out on the boards around us.

"But," she smiles wider. "That's prior to factoring in the other partials we retrieved that were too small of matches to even be valid in CODIS."

"Percentages of 10 or less," I state, following her thinking. "But when you apply them to the seven hundred and forty two others, you can use those other partials to further decrease possibilities of other potential matches."

Sara nods, "Even accounting for all other prints and people not in CODIS or other databases, our probability of another single person having all these same partials when you accumulate all the partials together gets very low."

I feel my throat tightening as the low hum of excitement starts traveling through me gains momentum with every further step.

"How low?"

She smiles, "Two."

I raise my brows. "You're kidding me?"

She shakes her head, "All this time, we discounted these partials because they're tiny, such low matches that our system isn't even willing to run them. But, when you put them all together into one large probability of someone else having these exact same partials all in the same person…"

"You statistically get two people." I shake my head. "Holy shit."

Sara smiles, "It gets better."

I watch her as she turns the paper nearest her to face me.

I see a large "0.0173%" circled in green ink.

I look up at her.

She points to it, "The probability of those two people with the same exact collection of partials being located in the same place as each other. Aka both being in Vegas."

"Holy shit."

I run my fingers through my hair, eyes working over all the papers around me. The papers that prove it's nearly statistically impossible for our partial prints to be owned and left at that scene by someone other than Marcus Kline.

"You think a jury can follow it?" I ask seriously, knowing my own very educated brain is struggling to keep up with her calculations, let alone a jury composed of people with all sorts of non-scientific backgrounds.

"We treat it like a DNA rule out," she suggests. "Use a computer graphic depiction of the process and how we get to the numbers we did."

Jurys like to see things visually. And, she's right, they trust when we give a percentage match regarding DNA – their minds shouldn't be completely closed to prints either. In the end, it's really no different. Partial DNA segments matched against each other versus partial prints.

"All this time…"

Sara nods, "We had the answers we needed, we just weren't looking at them the right way."

"My God."

Sara lets out a breath. "It's enough to book him for the murder, Catherine," Sara says. "The DA will accept this. Maybe we can even find more before the actual trial. But, for now…"

I let out an exhausted breath of my own.

"For now it's enough for probable cause."

Sinking against the table, I grip it tightly, feeling the waves of exhaustion and emotion passing through me.

"How…" I shake my head. "How in the hell did you think of this?"

Sara leans against her own side of the table, "I was sick of looking at all these useless partials, wishing there was some way to use them if only the damn percentage matches weren't so low. Got me thinking."

"Your brain works in a very unique way," I tell her sincerely, knowing we dismiss partials all the time because they are simply too low of matches to be usable. But, when you have a partial with enough of a hit to give you a name, it's an opening to extrapolate further data from there using those other partials and probability statistics.

It's genius, really.

"Sidle," I shake my head at the exhausted woman standing before me, adrenaline looking like it's the only think keeping her standing. "I owe you so much more than this coffee I brought."

Pushing the item across the table, I honestly want to kiss her.

Instead, I settle for something I don't think is off limits to us. Not at a time like this.

Moving around the table, I approach her, letting her see the intentions in my eyes.

Reaching over, I pull her into a hug, holding her closely.

When I feel her arms finally wrap around me in return, I let out a breath. A long breath that represents all my frustration with this case, with the sleepless nights it's given me, with the flashbacks to that awful interrogation when he alluded to what he was planning for my little girl – just enough detail to make me want to vomit everything I ever ate, but not enough detail to serve as a chargeable threat.

Placing my hand into Sara's dark hair, I find my chin laying itself on her shoulder.

"Thank you," I whisper out near her ear, knowing she can most definitely hear me. "Thank you, Sara."

She nods against me, responding only by tightening her own grip.

Eventually pulling away, Sara gestures to the table.

"I need to get this written up for the DA."

I nod, gesturing to the coffees. "Then let's get started."

Sending me a small smile of thanks, she nods, letting out a final breath before squaring her shoulders for the final part of this task.

* * *

Yawning, I stretch, feeling the strange sensation of actually having slept through a full night. Submitting our report to the DA yesterday evening, Sara and I have finally finished our part of this case - done everything there is for us to do on our end. It's up to the DA now to confirm whether it's enough to go to trial.

Shuffling to the kitchen to make myself some coffee, I note that I still have a decent amount of time this morning to get myself ready for the day ahead. Gil was more than happy to give us the night to ourselves after finishing our report. Said something about it only being fair after we worked essentially a quadruple shift since we never really went home for more than a few hours these last days working the case.

Sara was still at the lab when I left last night, however, wanting to finish 'one more thing' before going home. Part of me wonders if she ended up going home at all. The case may be at a stopping point for us, but something tells me Sara has a hard time letting go and sitting back while the DA deliberates. If nothing else, she'll likely pick up working on one of her other open cases just to give herself something to do, to distract herself with.

Shaking my head, I decide to make some extra coffee to bring to my stubborn workaholic of a colleague.

Heading past my front door, I notice the shadow of something against the glass. Narrowing my eyes, I glance out the side window, getting enough of an angle to notice it's a large brown envelope.

Heart picking up its pace, I retrieve my gun from its lock box.

We may have just filed our case against Marcus Kline, but that sure as hell doesn't mean he's out of our lives. Not yet.

Making my way back to the door, I pull it open slowly, looking up and down the street before I bend down and pick up the envelope, careful to use my sleeve so that I leave no prints of my own.

Shutting my door and locking it, I deposit the item on my coffee table.

When I get a good look at it, I feel myself instantly relaxing. My name is written on the front in a barely legible handwriting. But, it's handwriting that I'd recognize anywhere.

Putting my gun aside, I turn the envelope over to open it.

Pulling out what feels like a very thick stack of papers, I set them down, lifting out the handwritten note that's attached on top.

_Catherine – _

_I've included written copies of everything I thought was important for you to know. I trusted you when you said you deleted the electronic copies you received, so here is everything you need._

_You may have been wrong about how you went about getting the information before, but as we both know, you have a right to what's in it before we even think about moving forward. So, here it is. This time given openly from me to you._

_I'm sorry that I am not sharing these things in person, but if that was the way I had to do this it would take me a long time to feel ready to do that again. And, I don't know about you, but the idea of dragging this all out even longer seems less than desirable right now._

_Whatever your decision ends up being, I think we both need a decision. We both need closure to this uncertainty that's been lingering between us regarding how we feel and where we're heading._

_The information you need is all here. Take your time with it – whenever you are ready it's here. _

_I trust you know me well enough to know that I don't expect anything from you regarding this situation beyond honesty. You deserve the truth about who I am before this goes any further._

_However you feel after reading this, I will respect your wishes and your decision._

_Sincerely,_

_Sara_

Sitting down on the couch, I feel the room around me disappear as all I can focus on is the thick stack of papers in front of me, on the woman whose life is splayed out among their pages – all her secrets and hidden sides decoded in their ink.

The woman who put herself out of her comfort zone to do this for me – to take this huge step in giving us a chance. Giving _me _a chance to dictate this decision and this timetable.

Closing my eyes, I run my fingers gingerly over the pages, hoping beyond hope that my views of the honorable and considerate woman that I've come to know, come to care so much about, aren't forever changed after reading what they hold.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	36. Chapter 36

**AN: Thanks as always for reading - I always enjoy taking these journeys with you guys. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 36

_"From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached."_

_-Franz Kafka_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

The moment I first see Sara at the lab, I pull her aside, gently taking her arm as she's about to enter the breakroom for assignments.

"Thank you."

Her eyes lift to mine, her expression betraying the nervousness and discomfort lying beneath. She took a huge step leaving that information at my door last night, and now she's clearly angsting over what the consequences will be. What they maybe already are.

"I haven't looked at anything yet," I tell her, seeing some of her anxiety leave, only to be replaced a few moments later.

Just because I haven't looked yet, doesn't mean I'm not going to. She knows I will, and now it's only a matter of time. The guillotine is literally hanging over her head, and she's simply waiting for the moment it's dropped.

She nods, starting to pull her arm away when I tighten my grip.

"Sara."

Lifting her eyes back to mine, I try to offer her some sort of reassurance, some sort of promise that everything is going to be okay. That her kind gesture didn't just seal our fate – send it on a journey from which it will never recover.

But, the words fail me. I have no idea what information those papers hold, and to give her any sort of reassurances would not be truthful. I have no idea what I will decide when I read the words on those pages, and to act otherwise is a lie – one that could prove more hurtful than not saying anything at all.

We both known there's nothing more to be said, not yet.

Instead, I squeeze her arm gently, then, I let her go.

As we walk into the breakroom together, I can only hope my actions were not a foreshadowing of what's to come – that this is the last time I let her go.

* * *

"How was your case?"

Sara puts something in her locker, turning slightly towards me, but not facing me entirely as she continues to organize herself.

"Good," she says with a slight shrug. "Seems pretty straightforward, will probably have it closed by next shift."

I nod, "Same."

While us turning our desert rave case over to the DA has been a blessing, it definitely made today's case that Gil assigned me feel a bit lackluster. Which, while not making for the most exciting shift, I'm definitely not complaining about.

"Grissom give you the weekend off?" I ask, our boss having surprised me with the gesture as we headed out to our scene together.

I haven't seen Sara since morning assignments, the brunette having been sent out on a solo.

"Yeah," she answers. "Said something about wanting us to have some proper time off to rest and get ourselves resituated after our case."

I smile, having heard the same message from our boss.

"You going to take it?" I ask, knowing Sara and time off really are an oxymoron. Most times seems like you have to chase Sara out of here with a weapon to get her to even think about leaving.

Seeing my expression when she turns, she sends me a slightly amused look.

"I'm not _that_ bad about taking time off," she says.

"Yes," I tell her seriously. "You are."

Smiling slightly, she shakes her head before grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Well, this time you're wrong," she says. "I'm taking it."

"Really?" I raise a brow.

She nods, "I'm heading up to the mountains for a while. Get away from here for a bit. Clear my head."

I smile, "That actually sounds really nice, Sar."

I know Sara and I both really need this weekend to get ourselves back together after running ourselves ragged on our desert case. Some true, proper time off after working nonstop shift after shift.

"Just promise me," I tell her as we walk out together, "That you won't go running along ravines or get attacked by a bear."

Sara looks over at me, "That only happened once."

Both my eyes widen, staring at her in horror until I see the small smile pulling at her lips.

"You ass," I tell her, hitting her shoulder. "Way to give me a stroke."

"Don't worry," she tells me. "The mountains are much safer for running. You either survive or you fall off the entire mountain. You either survive or you don't – no inconvenient injuries or maiming to have to worry about."

Smile widening into a grin, she sends me a wink as she reaches her Jeep.

"Enjoy your weekend," she calls to me, getting in her Jeep with a wave before I can respond.

Good God, I mutter to myself. That girl is going to be the death of me.

Taking a deep breath, I get into my own car, both excited and nervous about the weekend ahead.

Excited for all the fun activities I have planned with Lindsey, nervous about the other, daunting activity I know I need to address.

I can't drag this out any longer – Sara deserves better from me. While she puts up a good front, I know she's worrying herself sick over this decision looming over our heads. It has to be this weekend, when I have the proper amount of time to devote to going through those files.

Sighing, I turn on the radio, hoping to drown out my thoughts until I reach home.

* * *

Glancing over my daughter, I make sure she's fully asleep before closing her bedroom door and quietly making my way back into the living room.

I've avoided this long enough, having spent all day today with Lindsey – out at the zoo, dinner, ice cream. All the wonderful mother daughter things I've been eager to have the time to do.

Now that she's asleep, however, there's nothing left to keep me from the large package burning a hole through the bottom drawer of my coffee table.

Pulling it open, I take out the package, pouring the pages out onto the glass surface.

Taking the first two pages, I look them over. Heart immediately clenching, I realize very quickly that this isn't going to be easy. The first pages contain excerpts from Sara's medical records. Summaries of past injures, ones that have abuse and neglect written all over them – having seen reports like this in past cases I've worked. Yet, none of them were apparently enough to get Sara out of that situation, each report from different hospitals, no one ever having connected them all together – or perhaps too lazy to care.

I already knew about this portion of Sara's past, likely why she put the pages first. But, while I already knew this portion, seeing it in black and white still has my blood boiling. I know here and now that this task, these pages, are not going to be easy.

If this information that I had already known is giving me this much anxiety and anger, I can only imagine what the remaining information will do to me.

Hands clenching, I let my eyes take in the information before me, take in the hell that Sara's body has been through, before forcing myself to take a deep breath and set them aside.

Picking up the next pages, I furrow my brows as I recognize court documents. A case from when Sara was still young. Some of the information has been blacked out, but Sara has filled in the censored information so that the reports are easily readable and understandable.

As my eyes make their way through the information, I feel my heart thundering in my chest – the constriction I feel there as my gaze takes in page after page, the words flying by as my thoughts start to churn even faster.

Oh my God.

Reading each page, one at a time, my eyes never leave the words being revealed to me, the pieces of information and portions of Sara's life that are unearthed in those pages. The secrets she's no doubt kept buried for all these years.

By the time I reach the last page, the last secret to be revealed, my body feels numb, my brain barely able to register everything it's been shown. Everything it's learned and seen.

Setting the papers down, I push them away from me, not wanting them near me any longer. When I run my hands through my hair, I note the moisture on my face. The trails from tears that have carved rivers down my skin.

Oh my God.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Can you come over?"

The sleepy voice on the other end of the line halts, then, "Catherine?" Now, sounding much more awake. "What's wrong?"

"Can you just…can you come over?"

There's no hesitation.

"Of course, I'll be there in five."

We hang up, and it's one of the longest five minutes of my life.

* * *

"Catherine?" Kelly immediately states as soon as my door is open, eyes frantically looking me over as she steps inside. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

I let her in, closing the door behind us.

Heading to the living room, I know there's no way to ease into this.

"I need to talk to you," I tell her.

"Okay," she gets out, eyes still nervously looking me over for any hint of what could be wrong.

"It's about Sara."

This has her pausing, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Is she okay?"

I nod, gesturing down to the coffee table.

Kelly studies me a moment more before she moves forward, glancing over the papers. When she finally starts to read a few, she straightens up, expression paling as she turns to face me.

"This is…" she gestures to the papers. "These are about Sara. Her past…"

Eyes wide, she looks at me. "What did you do, Catherine?"

"I didn't," I state, "Well, I did. But…"

Clearing my throat, I focus on what I need to.

"Sara gave these to me."

"What?" Kelly's eyebrows rise. "Why?"

I brace myself for what I have to say next.

"She wanted me to be able to make my own decision."

Kelly watches me, then, the moment it clicks, she stiffens, taking a step back.

"What are you saying, Catherine?"

"I'm saying we have a lot to talk about, Kel."

Kelly's jaw tightens, nodding slowly.

"Apparently we do."

When we sit, I anxiously rub my temples, trying to keep myself together. My brain is still swimming from the information on those pages, let alone this conversation I'm having.

"I have feelings for her, Kelly."

She's watching me, looking at me like I'm trying to tell her that planet Earth actually has _two_ moons.

"But you said…when I asked you…you said you were fine with it. That you didn't feel that way about her."

"And I didn't," I answer honestly. "At that time I didn't. I didn't realize until I thought I'd lost her to you that I even cared. That I even thought about her in that way."

"But now you do?"

I nod.

"What if I'd decided to pursue something with her?" Kelly asks, eyes wide as she tries to take this in. "What if Sara and I had actually gotten together?"

I shake my head, "I honestly don't know what I would have done or said."

"Jesus, Catherine," Kelly gets out. "How long have you felt this way?"

"A while," I tell her sincerely. "When you told me you had feelings for her – that's what made me realize my own."

"All this time," Kelly whispers out, emotions weighing down her voice. "And you never said anything to me."

"I'm sorry," I tell her genuinely. "I really am. I didn't know if Sara even felt the same, and then we had our case. There was just never a good time."

"That's bullshit," Kelly gets out. "I'm sorry, but it is. You know better than that."

And, I do. Kelly has been the one person that I've always been completely open with, and she has been with me. With Kelly and I, there is no such thing as waiting for a 'good time' to share something as important as this.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I should have been as open as you were when you told me about you and Sara. I just…I think I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of losing her, of losing you. Of messing this all up."

Kelly shakes her head, still trying to work her way through this information.

"Does Sara know how you feel?"

I nod, "We talked about it. That's why she gave me the information she did."

"Because she feels the same?" Kelly asks.

I nod again, "She does."

I can see that Kelly is somewhat hurt by the information I'm dropping on her, and I can see how hard she is fighting to _not _be hurt. I can see the acceptance and resignation in her eyes, but there's a lot of other, sadder emotions there as well.

"Do you regret your decision to let her go?" I ask her directly, needing to know the answer.

Kelly watches me, then shakes her head.

"No," she tells me, and I know her well enough to see that she's being honest. "Sara and I weren't good matches for each other. I knew when she shared that information with me – I knew we wouldn't work out."

Kelly's eyes shift to the papers on the table, the papers that she's essentially referencing.

"Did you read it all?" Kelly asks.

I nod, not knowing really what to say.

"What are you going to tell her?" Kelly asks, taking a similar direct approach.

"I'm going to tell her the truth," I answer. "I'm going to tell her that the information in those files doesn't change the way I feel about her."

Kelly doesn't move, doesn't speak, then, she slowly blinks in disbelief.

"What?"

I keep my gaze even with hers.

"I can respect and understand why it changed your feelings towards her, Kelly," I tell her honestly. "But it doesn't change mine."

"Catherine…" Kelly shakes her head. "I'm not trying to be rude, but how can it not?"

"It's not who she is," I state evenly. "Those pages are pieces of her, but I know who she is. She's proven to me time and time again who she is."

"She…" Kelly seems at a loss for words.

"I know."

"Do you?" Kelly gets out, voice raising slightly. "Because she _killed _someone, Catherine. In case you didn't understand that portion of the information."

I keep my gaze even with hers, "I understood it just fine."

"How…" Kelly again searches for how to say what she's thinking. "How can that not matter to you?"

"It matters," I counter. "But what matters more were the circumstances. I probably would have done the same thing."

"She _killed_ someone - I don't think there are circumstances where that's _okay._"

"Really?" I question. "If someone did to Lindsey what that bastard did to her brother?"

I shake my head, "I'm sorry, but if there was a monster out there who did those terrible, vile things, then I think it would be within reason to do exactly what Sara did."

"It's not our job to play judge and jury," Kelly shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but I think that people need to draw a line regarding what's okay and what's not. And my line is different than hers. Apparently also different than yours."

"Kelly…"

"Can you tell me the information there honestly doesn't worry you?" Kelly pushes, eyes boring into mine. "Nothing in there gives you pause?"

"What are you getting at, Kelly?"

Letting out a breath, my friend steadies herself, preparing the words she knows will not go over well.

"You have no reservations about being with someone like Sara?" Kelly questions. "Even after Eddie?"

I narrow my eyes, having a hard time digesting what she's implying. "Are you suggesting Sara Sidle is anything like Eddie? Because heaven help me, Kelly, you are so off base."

"Her background," Kelly pushes on, knowing we've always been honest with one another, no matter how difficult the topic. "The abuse, her criminal record even before she killed that man, her mother's mental illness. Sara Sidle isn't someone who I think either of us know very well at all."

"We don't," I agree. "Thus her wanting to share that information. Her home life was hell, then she was sent into foster care where she was passed from one abusive home to another. Are you really all that surprised that she found her way into some less than stellar crowds? Did some regrettable things?"

"No," she answers honestly. "We all have done some stupid shit in our past, even stupid petty crimes like she did while in those foster homes. But our criminal records usually stop there. They usually don't involve _murder_."

"That man was abusing her brother!" I yell, starting to lose my own patience. Starting to get frustrated at my friend who seemingly refuses to see this from any other point of view than her own. "That man _killed_ her brother. Sara found…Sara found his body…she was there when…"

I trail off, trying to stomach what those files revealed. I had known Sara's brother had passed away, she'd told me that much herself. But, the circumstances of his death were unlike anything I would have ever imagined.

"He killed him right in front of her. Would have killed her sister as well if Sara hadn't done what she did."

Kelly shakes her head, "She killed that man with her bare hands, Catherine. I'm sorry, but there are people in this world capable of something like that, and I don't think those are the people I want to spend my life next to. And, honestly, I'm surprised that you do after Eddie."

"Stop putting Sara and Eddie together in the same sentence! Sara would never hurt me," I state, not a single doubt in my mind.

"And how do you know that?" Kelly pushes, gaze burning into mine. "How do you know something else won't push her into snapping someday?" she questions. "Someone is either always or never capable of doing something like that."

Kelly's voice turns low, knowing Lindsey is in the house.

"So how can you be so sure that you and your daughter would always be safe? Do you not have any single doubt about that?"

I shake my head. "None," I answer honestly. "Maybe that makes me naive, but no, I have no doubts. Sara is a good person. She's sacrificed everything for the safety of me and my daughter ever since I've known her. Sara would never hurt us."

"You don't know that."

"I do," I counter. "And, honestly, if she were going to hurt me, she likely would have done it by now. Instead…"

"Instead?"

I pause, hesitating before resuming. "Instead I'm the one who's hurt her."

Kelly furrows her brows. "What?"

"Already," I say, "I've hit Sara, twice. So does that make me a monster?"

Kelly's eyes narrow, trying to make sense of my words.

"If one of us is Eddie, Kelly, then it's not Sara. It's me."

"Cath, stop," Kelly says, stepping forward slightly. "You know you're nothing like Eddie."

"My point is," I continue, "that you can't have it both ways. When it comes to someone hurting the other, your concerns are focused on the wrong person. Sara would never hurt me. And she's proven to me time and time again that my life is safe in her hands."

I search my friend's gaze for any sign of understanding.

"Sara was a teenager, pushed around all her life and abused day after day after day. Then someone literally kills her brother right in front of her after years of his own abuse. She sees that same person make a move towards hurting her sister, and Sara does what she had to do to keep her sister safe. To not lose another member of her family."

I swallow tightly.

"Do you know what they found in that man's house afterward?"

Kelly is quiet, eyes no longer meeting mine.

"They found bodies, Kelly. Numerous bodies in various stages of decomposition. Children. He'd been doing this for years. Foster kids would go missing, he'd tell the police they ran away, and no one cared enough to investigate. Think of how many more children would be dead if Sara didn't step in when it happened to her own brother."

I shake my head.

"I'm not sure she even meant to kill him," I continue. "I think she was just trying to protect her sister. And, the justice system clearly agreed, none of it even made it out of the preliminary court investigations to a trial. The only ones ever charged with anything were those city workers who were negligent all these years for all these kids, never catching on to the violence occurring right under their watch. Everything regarding Sara was expunged."

Kelly is quiet for a while, neither of us saying anything as we wade through our own thoughts, our own emotions.

"It scares me," Kelly finally gets out, voice quiet, resigned. "I'm sorry, but her history scares me. I think about all those things she's been through, all those things she's done, and it makes me nervous. _She _makes me nervous."

"I trust her," I state after a moment of my own contemplation.

Yes, Sara's history is horrible. The things that have been done to her and the things she herself has done. But, I know the person that Sara is today. And, like I told Kelly, I'd trust that person with my life. Hell, my life has been in her hands multiple times, and she's protected me without regard to her own safety each and every time.

She's probably one of the very few people in my life that I feel completely safe around. The other one being the person standing in front of me right now.

Kelly's instincts have always been excellent. And, my friend has been through enough of her own shit in life to know when someone is bad news. But, this is one of the very few times I believe she's gotten it wrong.

Very, very wrong.

She doesn't know Sara like I do. She hasn't seen Sara in her moments of vulnerability like I have. Seen the way Sara has acted in those moments like I have.

"Then I wish you both the very best," Kelly interrupts my thoughts, voice strained. "I'm happy for you, Catherine."

"Are you really?" I question. "Even when you don't like her?"

"Never said I didn't like her," Kelly counters. "I just don't like her past because I'm not convinced it doesn't reflect what is possible during her future."

Kelly looks at me for a long time, eventually continuing.

"But," she says. "You're an adult who can make her own decisions."

She lowers her gaze, face growing solemn before she brings her eyes back up to mine.

"I just hope you're right about her and that I'm wrong," Kelly gets out. "I pray to God that I'm the one who's wrong."

* * *

By the time my car pulls into the lot, the sun is just peaking over the mountains. Not knowing whether Sara is even here or not, I scan the cars parked around me until they land on her Jeep. Seeing the large, fresh streaks of mud splashed along the sides, I smile slightly, taking it as a sign that Sara was successfully able to escape into nature for a while this weekend.

As I make my way to her apartment, I try to keep myself calm.

I completed one difficult conversation, and this one should be the easier of the two. But, it's rare that anything between Sara and I is ever truly easy.

I know better than that.

Ascending the steps, I move down the hallway until I reach her apartment. Then, knocking, I try stop holding my breath.

When she pulls the door open, what looks like some clothes ready for the laundry held in her arms, she does a double take. Clearly I'm not the person she was expecting to be paying her a visit this early in the morning.

"Catherine?" she questions, eyes looking me over. "Everything okay?"

"I know I'll see you later today at work," I say quietly, trying to steady myself. "But I wanted to talk with you in private before then."

Sara takes this in, features paling slightly as she clearly knows now why I'm here. What I'm here to discuss.

Stepping back, she gives me room to pass her and enter her apartment.

"Sorry for the mess," she says as she closes the door, gesturing towards the various camping items laid out along her wooden flooring.

Even her 'mess' is neatly organized, I note with a small smile.

"Did you have a good time?"

She nods, glancing back over to me as she sets down the clothes and pours us some coffee.

"It was nice to get away," she says as she gets out the creamer.

"Thanks," I state when she hands me my cup. "And I'm glad you had a nice time. Nature seems to agree with you."

Looking up, she watches me as I watch her.

She's tense, yes, but she also has a peace about her that hasn't been there for a very long time. I think Sara has done some reflecting of her own on her trip, and she seems to have come to some of her own internal decisions. Or, noting her tanned skin and the streaks of mud still on her own clothing, she perhaps is just too worn out to have room for anything else right now.

"You and I seem to have very different ideas of a vacation," I tell her with a slight smile.

Following my gaze, she notes the mud along her shirt, the specks of it trailing along her exposed shoulders.

Cheeks reddening slightly, she looks back up at me.

"Sorry," she offers. "I just got back and finished unloading the car. Haven't gotten to the shower part yet."

I smile, "No worries, it's a good look on you. And you somehow still smell as fantastic as you always do."

Sara laughs at this, swallowing a sip of coffee. "Good to know."

Enjoying our coffee a few minutes more, I eventually set mine down on the counter, knowing we can't dance around this forever.

"I read the papers you gave me."

Sara nods herself, knowing this part of the conversation was coming. Setting her own coffee down, she plays with the rim of the mug.

"Okay," she tells me, trying to keep her voice steady.

Glancing up at me, she steadies herself, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Should we sit down?" she offers.

"Yes," I answer. "I think that's a good idea."

Taking a deep breath, Sara leads the way, gesturing towards her couch.

As we get situated, Sara choosing a seat across from me instead of next to me, I prepare myself for the conversation ahead. I know that, ultimately, this is it. This is the point where Sara and I define what we are, what we want, where we're headed.

This is the point that both excites and terrifies me.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	37. Chapter 37

**AN: Thank you everyone who has been reading and especially those who have been faithfully reviewing - reading your kind words brings me as much of a smile as you tell me the story brings you. So thank you - and please know that each of you are appreciated beyond words, wish I had time to thank everyone by name each chapter. **

**Hope everyone is doing well. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 37

_"Ever after that I knew what I was for him; and what I might be for the rest of the world, I ceased painfully to care."_

_-Charlotte Bronte _

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"I spoke with Kelly," I state, figuring it's as good a place to start this conversation as any.

This isn't going to be easy, and I think the best approach right now is going to be just diving straight in.

Sara takes in my words, eyes looking me over. "Okay."

"You didn't tell her about the incident at Harvard, did you?" I question, referencing the last paper that Sara included in her information.

While Kelly had clear issue with one of the largest revelations Sara included, I know my friend would also have found great concern with the Harvard incident. I know she would have brought it up during our conversation if she'd known about it.

Of all the things Sara shared with me, this alone held the most concern for me personally. This is something I know I need more information about before I go any further.

"No," Sara confirms my thoughts.

"Why not?"

She shakes her head slightly, "I didn't have to. Once she heard about everything that happened with my brother, I could see the shift in her. She'd already made her decision." Sara's eyes lower slightly, "To add anything else at that point was irrelevant."

I take this in, understanding Sara's approach. Sara can read people better than almost anyone I've ever met. I don't doubt she probably knew Kelly's decision even before my friend did.

"Do you really think you hurt that girl?"

Sara swallows tightly, the room falling to silence. When she leans back, I note her hands are shaking.

"I don't know," she gets out, voice barely a whisper. "But I think that fact alone is concerning enough. To know it's possible for you to have done such a thing. That's more than enough to be alarming."

"Walk me through it."

"Catherine..."

"Walk me through it, Sara. Make me understand why you included it."

"We were alone," Sara forces out, making herself honor my request of her, despite how painful it clearly is for her to do so. "We were drunk and high, alone in her dorm room."

Sara breathes out, her breath as shaky as her hands.

"When I woke up in the morning, she was lying on her bed, but... but her clothes were ripped. Her underwear was on the floor...and there... there was blood..."

Sara's features are so pale that I'm worried for her, her hands clenching together to try to hide how badly they're trembling.

"She was clearly sexually assaulted," Sara gets out.

"And why do you think it was you?" I push, knowing that this, of all the information in Sara's papers, is the one thing that gave me genuine pause and reservation. The one thing that seemed so out of character for Sara, the version of her that I've seen and think I know her to be.

"She was my girlfriend," Sara gets out. "We were alone. Who else would it have been?"

"How much of the night do you remember, Sara?" I ask.

"I remember us drinking, taking some pills and whatever else she had, we were going to watch a movie in her room."

"How much do you remember?" I press again.

"I remember the first part of the movie."

"And then?"

Sara swallows, head lowering as she clenches her fists tightly.

"Then nothing until the next morning."

"So how can you know it was you, Sara?" I state honestly. "How can you assume it was you that did those things to her?"

"Who else would it have been?" Sara asks darkly. "We were in her room. Alone."

"Did you lock the door?" I question. "Or were you like most college students and left it open?"

Sara's head stays lowered.

"It was closed, but not locked."

"Did she have other roommates that lived in her dorm room with her?"

Sara is quiet, her head lowered.

"Answer me, Sara."

A pause.

"Yes."

"So any one of them could have come in while you were blacked out?"

Another pause.

"Yes."

"When you woke up, you said there was blood. Was there a lot?"

"Yes."

"And was there any blood on you? Your hands, your clothing? Anywhere?"

She turns away, head staying down.

When she's quiet, I push again, knowing we need to pursue this all the way through.

"Sara. Answer me."

"No," she forces out. "There wasn't."

"Then how in the world can you think that you, of all people, were the one that did something like that."

"Because how can I not, Catherine?" Sara bites out. "My girlfriend and I plan a movie night together, we get high off our asses and she ends up sexually assaulted while we're alone in her dorm room. How the fuck am I supposed to come to any conclusion but that one?"

"Sara," I cut in. "You know as well as I do that there are _way_ too many variables in that to assume anything of that magnitude. How improbable it would be that you assault someone who is bleeding heavily, and yet have no trace of blood on you. No injuries of your own. Not to mention how you could manage to have the strength and ability to assault someone when you're intoxicated enough to be blacked out for hours yourself."

I move to the edge of my seat on her couch, trying to get just the slightest bit closer to her.

"Run it like any scene of ours, Sara. Think through it. If it were my case, I'd have cleared you already as a suspect."

"But you don't know," Sara counters. "You can't know for sure it _wasn't _me."

Sara's hands are now shaking violently when she runs them through her hair.

"Just the thought that I could have done something like that to her?" she gets out, voice strangled.

"Stop."

Moving forward, I perch myself on the edge of her coffee table.

"Look at me."

She shakes her head, dark hair falling over her shoulders.

"Sara, look at me."

When she doesn't, I reach out, pulling her jaw upward until she's facing me.

"You didn't hurt her, Sara," I tell her sternly. "You can't go through your life thinking you're some rapist just because it was never learned who _did _hurt her. This isn't something that becomes your fault by absence of the real perpetrator."

She clenches her jaw, eyes haunted.

"Just the thought of it...of knowing we were alone when that night started...and seeing her like that...the thought that I could have done something like that..."

"I know," I tell her gently, keeping my grip on her jaw firm. "Which is why, even more than the evidence against it, I know you had nothing to do with what happened to her that night."

"You don't know me," Sara counters. "The things I'm capable of..."

Sara pulls back, ripping my hand from her.

"You know now I'm a murderer," she states in a dark tone. "Why not also a rapist?"

She stands, expression dark as she turns away from me.

"No," I cut in, standing myself and putting my body directly in front of hers. "You don't get to do this."

"Do what?" she asks. "Be honest?"

"No," I respond. "You don't get to give me information about you and then try to tell me how I feel about it. You gave it to me so that I could decide that for myself."

Reaching out, I turn her face back to mine, not caring how much it's pissing her off. She's not going to keep running from this, from me.

"I may not have known you long, Sara, but I know you well enough to know you're not a rapist. I knew it before I asked for more information about what happened, and I sure as hell know it for sure now. I don't care what you believe happened that night, because I know there's no way you hurt that girl."

"You-"

"I'm not finished," I cut her off sternly. "You're going to listen to what I have to say."

Her jaw tightens under my grip, her eyes dark.

"I don't know what the hell happened to her that night, but I know in my heart that you had nothing to do with it. That's not who you are, Sara. That's not the type of thing you're capable of."

"I murdered someone!" she cuts it, one of the very few times Sara's ever raised her voice around me. "Why the hell are you still so naïve about what I'm capable of?!"

"Killing that man was not murder!" I bite back, my own tone just as stern. "Killing that man was protecting your family! It was keeping your sister safe and making sure no other child ended up like your brother did!"

I shake my head, grip so tight on her jaw that my hand is shaking.

"What you did was not murder someone, what you did was protect a whole lot of someones!"

I stare her down, my gaze battling with her own.

"And that's how I know you had nothing to do with what happened with your girlfriend. Anything violent I've ever seen you do was always to protect someone. Your sister, me, Lindsey. You protect people, Sara, that's what you do. You don't hurt them."

My voice softens as my anger leaves me, filled with something else.

"I'm sorry, honey, but what I told you at my house the morning after your nightmare is still true. I've already seen who you are, Sidle, and nothing changes that."

Sara's silent, her labored breathing the only noise in her entire apartment.

"You don't..."

"I know enough," I answer the unspoken remainder of her comment. "I've seen more than enough evidence regarding who you are, your character."

I rub my thumb along her jaw, not letting go, but trying to turn my touch from aggression to comfort.

"You gave me all that information, every possible moment in your past that would give someone pause, to allow me to determine if I still wanted to pursue something with you. You don't have the right to take that decision away from me now."

Sara is quiet, her eyes narrowing as she takes in my words.

"You mean..."

"I mean I want to pursue a relationship with you, Sara Sidle. I mean that nothing you shared with me changes how I feel about you in any way."

I let her see the truth behind my words, the honesty there.

"What you shared definitely took me aback," I tell her. "It made me angry, sad, disgusted, and a whole lot of other things. But I felt those things regarding what you'd been through, what other people did to _you_, Sara. Never about anything you did."

I run my thumb across her skin, feeling the tension underneath her clenched jaw.

"Knowing your past helps me understand you so much better," I tell her gently. "And I can never thank you enough. But, your past didn't change the person that I see standing before me. The person that I'm still so proud of, so admiring of."

I watch her gaze, making sure it's even with mine.

"The person who I still trust with my life. With my daughter's life."

Swallowing, Sara shakes her head slightly, the only movement my still tight grip allows.

"How can you be so sure about me?" she questions. "When I have so many doubts?"

I smile slightly, "I think mirrors sometimes are a lot less reliable than windows."

The apartment again falling to silence, Sara seems to take in my words as her gaze leaves mine.

"If I let go of you," I question when the minutes stretch on. "Are you going to promise not to keep trying to run away from me?"

Closing her eyes briefly, Sara finally nods.

Removing my hand from her jaw, I move it to lay flat along her chest instead.

"I care about you so much, Sara," I tell her honestly. "And I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

I smile warmly, "Because, sweetheart, I have absolutely no reservations about the person that you are. I've seen who you are, and she's nothing but beautiful, inside and out."

Sara swallows, and I feel how hard her heart is thundering against my hand, how tense this moment is.

"Are you sure?" she asks me, voice so quiet I nearly miss it. "Are you sure you trust me? Because I'm not sure I trust myself."

"I'm sure."

There's no hesitation, no qualms about my statement. I would never take a chance when it comes to my safety or the safety of my daughter. If I thought for one second Sara was a threat, I would never even waste a second thinking about pursuing something with her.

I'm sure of this, I'm sure of her. Even if she's not sure of herself.

I'm willing to be sure enough for the both of us.

"If you'll still have me," I state, "I'm more than interested in seeing where this goes. In giving whatever this is between us a shot."

Sara smiles slightly, shaking her head at my wording.

"It would be my honor, Catherine," Sara says genuinely.

"When did you know?" I ask curiously. "That you had feelings for me?"

I told Sara when I knew my feelings for her, but I'm genuinely curious about her own feelings that I was sure were less then pleasant towards me for most of our early time together. Hell, even most of our more recent time together.

"I realized I was physically attracted to you when you approached me in the locker room, telling me we needed to talk about Gabe."

I raise a brow, "That was our first meeting."

Sara's cheeks blush lightly, a soft shade of pink working it's way towards her ears.

"I know."

Looking up, she shrugs lightly, still looking more than a little embarrassed.

"I have eyes," she says. "You're gorgeous. I didn't need more than one meeting to notice that."

I laugh, shaking my head.

"But you hated me," I tell her.

She laughs now as well, the sound light but genuine.

"Your personality took a little longer to grow on me than your looks."

Smacking her arm gently, I watch as she once again grows serious.

"That night at the bar, when you gave me your drink," she says. "That's when I think I finally allowed myself to see through to who you really are. See how much you care about everyone. Your daughter, Kelly, your job. Gabe."

She searches my eyes with her own.

"I saw someone that evening who is warm, caring, selfless. I saw someone who I wanted to get to know better."

Sara watches me, "And, as I've gotten to know her better, I've just fallen harder and harder."

I breathe out deeply at her words, seeing the sincerity there, the openness.

"Feeling's mutual," I offer, voice nothing but a whisper.

Then, her eyes on mine, I feel my hand along her chest take gentle hold of her tank top. Pulling, I draw her closer, her body now mere inches from mine.

Her gaze deepens, her hazel eyes moving from mine down towards my mouth, then back up again. Seeing her swallow tightly, I feel myself doing the same.

Then, without a further thought, I close the final distance between us, bringing my lips to hers.

The kiss is soft, tentative. My lips meeting with her own, noting the vibrations that seem to hum through me at the contact. Free hand reaching up, my fingers tangle themselves in her hair, using the position to increase the contact between us.

Her own hands raise up, placing themselves along my neck, making me gasp at the sensation.

Pulling back for breath, I see Sara's eyes fluttering open the same as mine.

Watching each other, we both seem like we're both connected in a way we never have been before.

Eyes flickering downward, Sara's gaze is on my mouth, her thumb reaching up to gently trace my lower lip.

Then, without hesitation, she leans in.

This time, the kiss is much deeper, much less reserved. I feel her one hand place itself along my hip as her other returns to the sensitive spot along my neck.

Moaning, I immediately grant her access when I feel her tongue tracing along my bottom lip. The humming between us now seems like a full electrical storm, every inch of me feeling like it's pulsing with energy, exposed and yet safe all at the same time.

By the time we pull away from this second kiss, we're both breathing heavily, Sara's cheeks flushed as I'm sure mine are the same.

"Wow," I breath out.

Sara smiles slightly, blushing for the second time today.

"Feeling's mutual," she echoes back my earlier words.

Smiling deeper, she watches me, her fingers tracing gently along my cheek.

"I think I'd like to see where this goes, too," Sara tells me, voice quiet. "If you're sure."

"Stop asking me if I'm sure," I smile slightly. "That kiss should have shown you just how sure I am."

I shake my head, running my fingers gently across her cheek bone.

"But, in case you need further convincing..."

I reach out with my other hand, drawing her back down to me with a smile.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	38. Chapter 38

**AN: So so so so sorry for the long delay in updates. Holidays, life, getting sick, work, and a bunch of other random stuff in between has had things a bit more hectic than usual. Thanks as always to those reading and reviewing, the inspiration and motivation is always because of you.**

**Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 38

_ "Self-interest is but the survival of the animal in us. Humanity only begins for man with self-surrender."_

_ -Henri Frédéric Amiel_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"We should go in."

No response.

I smile slightly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Sara. We should go in."

No response.

"Dear God, Sidle, stop looking at me like that."

This finally gets a response from the brunette, Sara grinning slightly as she raises a brow.

"Like what?"

"Like _that_. Like you wish we weren't at work so we could…you know..."

"I do wish we weren't at work," Sara smiles wider. "So we could…you know…"

"Gasp," I state dramatically, placing a hand over my heart. "Did Sara Sidle say she wishes she wasn't at work?!"

Laughing slightly, Sara shakes her head at me, placing her coat in her locker.

"We should go in," she says this time.

Straightening up, she closes the distance between us. Looking into my eyes, she pauses a moment before leaning down to meet her lips with mine. Kissing me softly, she pulls back.

"Sorry," she offers quietly with a smile. "We may be at work but I couldn't help it."

I shake my head, "No complaints from me."

Reaching out, I take her hand, knowing this private moment in the locker room is going to be the last time we'll have this luxury all day.

While Sara and I can joke about where we are and what we're doing, we're both much too professional to even consider carrying any sort of relationship over into the workplace. We know that when we're between these walls, our personal life needs to remain on the periphery. As soon as shift assignments start, our relationship pauses.

Giving her hand a squeeze, I pull back.

"Stay safe tonight," I tell her.

"You too," she offers, taking a deep breath before she opens the door for me, leading the way out to learn what unfortunate souls require our assistance this night.

* * *

"How did it go?"

"Good, I think."

Kelly sends me a thoughtful look, passing me a menu.

While the situation between Kelly and me is a bit complicated, she's my best friend. One of the most important people in my life. When I got to work this morning, I sent her a text asking if she wanted to do lunch.

Kelly and I are always open and honest with one another, and along with that pact we also try not to ever let things keep us apart. But, I know myself, and I know Kelly. Sometimes, when we're bothered by something, we tend to let space come between us, then each of us waiting on the other to initiate contact again. This time, I didn't want that to even have a chance to become an issue, wanting to see Kelly as soon as possible to be sure we're okay after our conversation.

"So you and her…it's official?"

"We talked, agreed to see where this goes," I tell her, pausing to place my order with the waitress.

"And that's it?" Kelly asks when the waitress leaves. "Just talked?"

"Talked and…kissed."

Kelly raises a brow.

"Look," I cut in. "I'm hoping to take this slow. My time in Vegas, not to mention my interactions with Sara so far in Vegas, have been less than simple. We have a hell of a past to work through, and I want to move forward carefully. Get to know each other better, spend more time together. Then, if all goes well, see if we still want to take things further at that point."

"Okay," Kelly taps her fingers against her water glass, still looking at me with slightly narrowed eyes.

Kelly knows me, which means she also knows my tendency to jump into things with my romantic partners. I haven't exactly been the most patient lover in the past, usually letting my desires dictate the pace.

"I'm serious," I tell her. "It's not that I don't want…to…you know…with her…because I do. God, I really do." I clear my throat. "But, even more than that I don't want to mess this up. Everything is complicated enough without jumping right into things before we're ready."

"You mean before she's ready."

I consider her words, the insinuation of her words.

"Partly," I agree, knowing Sara probably has different timelines when it comes to relationships than I usually do. Different timelines when it comes to trust. She doesn't strike me as someone that just dives in headfirst with people before she knows them, fully trusts them. "But also before I'm ready."

I send her my own look.

"I'm trying to start a new life here," I tell Kelly sincerely. "That doesn't include making the same mistakes I made in Montana. I need to know this is headed somewhere long term before I even consider getting to that level with her."

"What changed?"

I answer easily, "Lindsey."

Kelly nods, already knowing what I'm saying with that one word alone. Lindsey is old enough now that she understands her mother's actions, understands and notices the people that she brings into her life. She's too old for me to be sneaking around or rushing into things with people, bringing them into Lindsey's life only for them to disappear a short time later.

Sara and I need to do this right, not just for ourselves but also for the people around us. That includes Lindsey, and that includes Kelly. They both have a lot at stake, in different ways, regarding Sara and I and whether or not we ultimately work out.

And, while I've fallen more than hard for Sara already, we have a ways to go before I feel we're at a place of being in an official, public relationship - one that's shared with our friends, family, coworkers. Right now we're getting to know each other better, and then seeing where things go. I refuse to let us get too far down a road until I'm sure we both want to be on it, and are in agreement about its destination.

But, I remind myself with a steadying breath, the hardest parts are behind us. Now we have the ability, and the pleasure, to finally be moving forward – at a pace we're both comfortable with.

"You're happy?" Kelly asks quietly, watching the thoughts passing through my gaze.

"Very."

She sees the genuine answer, the sincerity behind my words.

"Good," she responds, offering a small smile. Then to lighten the moment, she shrugs, "But if you're ever _not_ happy and need me to kick her ass for you, let me know."

I laugh, raising my brows, "You really think you could take her?"

Kelly shrugs, "Maybe. You know I'm scrappy in a fight. Plus, your girl may be a badass, but she's scrawny as hell."

I snort, trying not to blush at the reference to Sara as 'my girl'. But, to be honest, it sounds damn good to my ears.

"Willowy," I smile. "She likely prefers willowy to scrawny."

"Whatever," Kelly rolls her eyes. "Willowy, scrawny, gangly. Bottom line, I could hold my own against miss dark and mysterious."

Laughing, I shake my head, "Let's just hope we never need to test that theory."

Kelly smiles, looking a little lighter, a little softer from the last time I saw her - when I revealed to her my feelings for Sara and my desires to pursue those feelings. I know we still have some further to go in regards to getting ourselves back to the carefree relationship we both cherish, but we're well on our way.

Reaching across the table, I take Kelly's hands in mine.

"Thank you for being supportive of this," I tell her sincerely. "I know it can't be easy for you."

Kelly shrugs, trying to be casual about it.

"It's a lot to adjust to," she eventually says honestly. "But I'm getting there. I just want you to be happy, Cath. And, despite my threats to take out Sara if she upsets you, I really just want her to be happy, too. You both deserve it."

She lets out a long breath.

"Maybe you can both finally be happy. Together."

* * *

Walking me to the door to the lab, Kelly gives me a hug, holding on tightly. A lot is communicated in that hug, and I hold her back just as tight.

There are very few places in the world I feel happier than when I'm with my best friend, and I'm so glad to have her back in my life.

"Have a good rest of your shift. Stay safe."

"Thanks," I smile as I pull back, noticing the car pulling into the lot behind her.

She notices the motion as well, turning to see the occupants getting out of the black SUV. We go quiet as we watch Sara and Nick head towards us.

Nick offers Kelly a smile, recognizing her from my house warming.

"Hi, Kelly," he greets. "Nice to see you again."

"You as well, Nick," Kelly responds politely, giving him a nod.

As he moves inside, Sara hesitates by the door, eyes avoiding contact with Kelly's. They both remain completely silent, clearly unsure of what to do or say.

"I'm, uh, going to go help Nick get this processed," Sara eventually breaks the silence, referencing the evidence bags in her hands.

Eyes finally glancing at Kelly, she offers a small nod to my friend before opening the door and walking into the lab.

In the resulting silence, Kelly and I both seem to remain stuck, unsure of what to do.

"Well, that was awkward," my friend finally gets out.

I snort, "I think awkward is an understatement."

"Sorry," Kelly apologizes with a sigh, pushing her hands down into the pockets of her jeans anxiously. "I didn't mean to just freeze up like that. I just wasn't expecting…to see her…"

"I know," I tell her, gently squeezing her arm. "Nothing to be sorry for. It's going to take time. For you and for her."

Kelly nods, letting out a deep breath.

Sending me a smile, she shakes her head. "Anyway, you have to get back to work and so do I. Stop being lazy, CSI Willows."

Swatting her on the arm, I laugh as she heads back to her car with a wave.

Letting out a long breath of my own, I prepare myself for the rest of the shift. I know things are going to take time, for all of us, but I can only look forward to the day when all of this is settled, when both Sara and Kelly are not only in a good place with me, but also with each other.

* * *

"Hey," I greet, careful not to startle the brunette as I enter into her back lab where she's filling out a form.

Looking up, she sends me a small smile.

"Hey."

"You think you're going to get out of here on time?" I question, trying to gauge the amount of work spread out around her. It's a hard task, none of the surrounding items giving me much indication as to what's already been processed and what hasn't.

Sighing, she straightens up, tapping her pen against her hand.

"Not sure yet, actually."

"Okay," I try to remain hopeful. "Well, text me when you get out of here?"

"Of course," she sends me a nod and another small smile, this one coming much closer to reaching her eyes.

"Catherine?"

Turning when I reach the door, I note Sara's tapping of her pen has turned anxious.

"I just," she shakes her head. "I'm sorry about outside. With Kelly."

I furrow my brows, not getting what she's sorry about.

"I should've…" she swallows. "I should've been more polite to her than I was."

"You were cordial," I tell her, not having expected more from Sara, or Kelly, than what they gave. Which was polite and mutual acknowledgement.

"But, she's your best friend," Sara counters in response, shaking her head. "You deserve me treating her better than I did."

"I don't expect anything from you, Sara, other than honesty. Your relationship with Kelly is independent from my relationship with you. Don't ever think otherwise."

Sara watches me, her eyes searching mine.

"She doesn't want you to be with me, does she?"

Sara's quiet question throws me, not expecting Sara to have asked it. Now. Ever. But, her soft, and steady, tone tells me it's clearly something she's had on her mind for a while.

"Why would you say that?"

Sara's gaze doesn't falter.

"I scared Kelly. I _scare_ Kelly," Sara corrects. "It's why she didn't want to pursue anything with me."

She takes a deep breath in, steadying herself against the unseen emotions within her.

"If she doesn't trust me with the safety of herself, she isn't going to trust me with the safety of her best friend."

Closing my eyes, I take in her words, hesitating with my own. How do you tell someone that they're right about something like this? That yes, someone is scared for their safety around you - that they think you're a danger to them and their loved ones?

When I open them again, however, I see Sara's expression. I see that she's already aware of the truth behind her own statement. She knew the answer before she even asked the initial question, and it would be worse to try to lie to her.

"Kelly has her reservations," I confess truthfully. "But she also gave us her blessing. She's willing to trust me on this decision."

Sara goes quiet, not responding as her eyes leave mine to focus somewhere behind me.

Stepping forward, I make sure the distance between us still looks casual to anyone walking by, but I angle my head to meet her eyes.

When her beautiful hazel gaze finally reconnects with mine, I let her see everything.

"The only one who still needs to trust my decision is you, Sara."

Her jaw working tightly, Sara struggles not to look away again.

"I should talk with Kelly," she says after a moment, not directly responding to my statement, but acknowledging it in her own way. "I think we need some closure."

"I think that's a very good idea," I agree, knowing Sara and Kelly can't keep up this awkward dance around each other. Avoidance isn't going to remain as a practical option for much longer. "And I'm proud of you for being willing to do that."

"She deserves it," Sara says without reservation. "And, so do you."

Watching me, Sara finally lets out a tense breath, shoulders relaxing slightly for the first time since I entered her workspace.

"Now, let me get back to work," she smiles slightly. "So I can hopefully get out of here at a reasonable hour and finally get to do more than just stare at you from across a layout room."

Laughing, I smile back, "That's a solid plan. One I'm in full compliance with."

Heading to the doorframe, I give her one last look.

"Try not to take too long."

* * *

By the time Sara pulls into my drive, it's easily a good two hours after the end of shift. Hearing the light tapping at the door, I let her in.

"Hey," she greets quietly, knowing Lindsey is asleep. "I'm so sorry, I got caught up with –"

Stepping forward, I silence her, pressing a gentle but purposeful kiss to her lips. She responds almost immediately, deepening the kiss as her mouth grants access to my own.

Pulling her towards me and deeper into the house by her jacket, she follows me, managing to avoid any major collisions as we blindly head towards the kitchen.

When we arrive, I feel my back connect with my counter, moaning quietly as Sara's body presses into mine.

When our hips meet, I feel like I may lose all control.

Pulling her head back, Sara's breathing is heavy, her eyes lifting to mine as we simply watch each other, trying to catch our breaths.

"Shit," Sara mutters after a moment, shaking her head as she starts to move away.

"Hey," I reach out, grabbing her by the waist of her jeans and pulling her back to me. "Where are you going?"

Watching me, she studies my expression.

"I…"

She hesitates, like she's trying to figure out what to do, what to say.

"You think I don't want this?" I ask her seriously, wondering if she's fearing that she was being too forward.

Reaching out with the hand that isn't currently holding her in place, I take her own hand, moving it to my chest.

"Feel that?" I ask, my heart thundering against my ribs.

She looks down at our joined hands, her eyes then raising back up to mine.

Leaning in, she kisses me, this time softer, slower, but no less intense.

In fact, I think I'm learning that nearly everything Sara Sidle does is intense.

When she pulls back, her cheeks are blushing slightly.

"Glad I'm not the only one feeling that way," she confesses quietly.

"Does it scare you?" I ask, my voice nearly a whisper.

Sara looks at me, expression more open than I've seen it in a long time.

"Yes."

Reaching out, I run my fingers lightly down her cheek, to her jaw, her neck, and then stopping when it rests against the edge of her collarbone peeking out from the collar of her shirt.

"Me too."

Yes, we at some point need to talk, need to communicate our boundaries and pace and figure out where we're headed and our plans for getting there.

But, right now, she's standing here with me in my kitchen.

Exhausted, flushed, and so damn beautiful.

In this moment, the only thing I can think about is how much I want to kiss her, hold her.

So, for once I stop thinking, and I do exactly that.

All the rest can wait.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	39. Chapter 39

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Glad to give a semi quick update this time around. And, this one is a bit long, for better or worse.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 39

_"Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety."_

_-William Shakespeare_

* * *

KELLY POV

There's a lot about the world that I don't understand.

Blimps. Erasable pens. Sonnets.

And, currently, people who don't comprehend math.

"No," I repeat for what has to be the fifth time this conversation. "The grid encompasses thirteen hundred square feet. That makes thirteen hundred and fourteen when you include the foreground. The cost to upgrade would therefore three forty two per unit based on the list prices you quoted me, the square footage, the percent coverage, and the updated tax fees."

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"That can't be right," the guy grumbles. Just like he has the last fifty thousand times we've argued this same point, these same calculations. "That's nowhere near the numbers I'm getting."

"Then why don't you grab your calculator, some paper, some pencils, and get back to me when you start using human math."

Hanging up, I don't care that I'm being rude. I stopped caring forty minutes ago when the call first began and it became apparent it would be as pleasurable as getting my nails ripped off.

If you're going to approach someone about upgraded energy platforms, at least do your homework beforehand. Two days, two full days we've been going back and forth with this same argument.

When my phone rings again, I nearly spit, "What now?!"

There's a long pause.

Then, a very hesitant, "Kelly?"

Glancing down at the caller ID, I see the restricted number listed.

"Yes?"

"It's Sara."

Pausing, my feet stop their pacing, all motion ceasing.

"Sara?" I question, still trying to get over the shock of who it is calling me.

"Yeah," she confirms though she likely knew it was essentially rhetorical. "Now a bad time?"

"No," I respond. "Sorry for yelling at you, I thought you were someone else."

Sara's silent, then there's a slight, quiet laugh. "Good, otherwise this conversation was already off to a much less pleasant direction than I was anticipating."

"You were expecting it to be unpleasant?" I ask, not able to help the slight smile in my own tone. "You said 'less pleasant' direction."

Sara mumbles something that sounds like, "Perish the thought."

Getting to the point, I narrow my eyes. "What can I help you with, Sara?"

It's not a call I expected, knowing Sara is probably the only person I've met who can be more avoidant that I can. And, we have every reason in the world to be avoidant with each other right now, all things considered.

"I was wondering if you'd be free after work today?"

"Free for…?"

Sara's sigh is audible even through the phone.

"I think we need to talk, Kelly."

I go quiet and so does she, neither of us really knowing the next words to say. But, no further words are really needed for me to understand what she's asking. And, more aptly, why she's asking.

"I think you're right," I tell her.

"I'm open to a different time if today's not workable," she says, likely still a little wary of my initial tone and greeting.

"No," I decline the offer, not wanting to put this off any longer. And, not wanting to have the conversation looming over us for more days than it has to be. I want to address things with her without days of angst ahead of time. "Today is fine."

"When do you finish?"

"Should be done close to on time," I think it through. "Give me until about six?"

There's a pause, then, "Okay. Where works best?"

Considering the various options, I give the answer that makes me the most comfortable.

"Would you be willing to come here? To my office?"

It's not far from the crime lab, and would honestly give me more time to finish everything here. Not to mention help me not feel as out of my element as I likely already will be speaking with her. We've avoided each other, avoided this conversation, for long enough to make this more than anxiety provoking.

"That's fine. Text me the address when you get a chance."

I pause.

"I, um, I don't have your number, Sara."

There's another pause and she hesitates, realizing we've never really chatted over the phone, and her number shows up restricted on caller ID - likely do to her having to make work related calls from her personal phone.

"Right, sorry," she says quietly. "I'll text you when we hang up so you can reply."

"That works."

A silence falls over the line that's far from comfortable.

"I guess I'll see you later," she states.

"See you later."

Hanging up, I stare at my phone as if trying to prove to myself that the conversation really just happened.

Taking a deep breath, I head towards my desk, needing to get a start on the rest of the tasks for the day if I'm going to be free by six.

As I'm sitting down, my phone buzzes.

Glancing at the screen, I open the text from the now unrestricted number.

_Unnamed (1:21pm): My number._

Smiling at the text that's so characteristically Sara Sidle, I save her contact information into my phone.

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"You okay?"

Sara glances up, eyes lifting from her phone to mine.

"Hey," she greets. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure?"

I step closer, taking in her slightly edgy body language and her thoughtful expression.

"Yeah," she breaths out, seeming to relax slightly as she puts her phone back into her pocket.

I'm not sure I believe her, but I know better than to push.

Instead, I move closer, wrapping my arms around her from behind, resting them along her hips.

"How's your day been going?"

Sara smiles slightly, leaning her head back towards me.

"Better now."

Smiling, I place a kiss near her ear.

"Good."

Then, separating, I glance over her notes.

"Progress?"

Sara nods, getting serious as we shift back into work mode, both of us not allowing more than the brief interaction we just had while in the lab.

"Actually yes," she tells me. "We have a suspect we're bringing in later for questioning."

I raise a brow, "Wow, that's great progress. You and Nick must be happy."

Sara nods, "We're anxious to get this closed, give these families some peace."

"You think your suspect's the guy?"

Sara nods, taking a deep breath as she looks up at me.

"I do."

I smile, proud of her and all the hard work I know she's personally been putting in on this case.

"Then good luck."

Sara gives me a nod, "I'll see you later? At the staff meeting?"

"I'll be there," I confirm. "Though I'm not really sure what to expect. Does Gil call these often?"

Sara shakes her head, "Not at all. Pretty much only when he's forced to by Ecklie."

"Anything I should be worried about?"

Sara laughs, "Only having enough coffee with you so that you don't nod off."

"Noted," I send her a smile, making my way to the door. Then, heading out to the hall, I poke my head back around the corner. "I may even bring an extra cup for you."

Winking at her, I hear her soft laugh as I walk off.

* * *

KELLY POV

"Come in."

Squaring her shoulders, Sara makes her way through the open door, standing near the entry.

Eyes taking in her surroundings, she roams over the glass and wooden architecture.

"Nice office building," Sara offers. "Your design?"

I nod, "One of my first projects."

"It's beautiful."

"Thanks."

Gesturing towards one of the smaller rooms near the back, I take her to what is technically a conference room, but is really more of a sitting room. The back wall is nearly entirely floor to ceiling windows, allowing a nice view of the landscape around us. It's not as private as my personal office, but at this hour I'm not concerned about anyone else being around. And, the space is more open, allowing a less confined area for Sara and I. Which, is something I think we'd both appreciate.

"Coffee?"

Sara nods, "Please."

Preparing two cups, I join her a few minutes later, passing one across the wooden table.

"Thanks."

Taking a few sips, we both also take in more than a few deep breaths.

"I won't keep you long," Sara eventually starts. "But I think we need to have a conversation. In light of…everything."

I nod, leaning against the table with my hip while Sara remains standing. I know better than to offer the tense brunette a seat.

"Catherine told me her decision and that you guys are giving a relationship a try," I say, deciding to meet her half way.

"And Catherine told me that you gave her your blessing," Sara supplies.

Sara's eyes lift to mine, watching me.

I know what she's alluding to, the topic we both know is the one that's been hanging unspoken between us all this time. The one we're here to discuss.

Swallowing tightly, she squares her shoulders. "I know you don't trust me, Kelly."

I watch her, standing to my full height as I put down my coffee with one hand.

"I don't."

We're silent, both our gazes evenly matched.

"I will never hurt her, Kelly," Sara says in response, voice somewhat quieter. "Not in that way."

Her jaw works tightly, her body tense as she forces herself through this.

"I can't promise anything about our relationship, can't promise that we'll work out or that she'll never get hurt throughout the process. But, I can promise you that the things I shared with you, the things that scare you about me…"

She struggles, forcing her eyes to stay on mine.

"I can promise you that those things you don't have to worry about. I would never…I _could never_…physically hurt her."

I let out a long breath, feeling some of my own strong façade breaking as I watch her struggling through her statements, baring herself in front of me to discuss a topic that likely is one of the hardest for her to address.

"Sara," I breathe out, stepping slightly closer so there's not a whole room between us. "I…"

Shaking my head, I rub my temples.

"I want to trust you with her," I tell her honestly. "I really do."

"But you don't."

I look at her, my eyes searching hers.

"Not fully," I affirm. "Not yet."

I see her take in my words. Eventually, she nods, respecting my response, my honesty.

I see the acceptance in her eyes, and also the damage my honesty has done to her. Has been doing to her, throughout this whole process. The cracks that I started when I turned her down, turned away from her because of who she is, what she's done. The cracks that I now keep chipping away at every time I tell her I don't trust her around Catherine.

"Hey," I call, watching her dark gaze focus elsewhere, no longer able to meet my eyes. "Look at me."

Stepping forward, I move until I'm directly in front of her. Hesitating, I shakily reach out, placing my hand on her shoulder until she looks up.

"Give me time," I ask her, my voice lowered under the weight of this conversation. "I want to trust you completely. But, I'm just not there yet."

Sara's head angles away, shadows falling across her eyes.

"It's fine." She clears her throat. "I wanted you to hear from me that I respect your reservations, not try to change them. But, hopefully, someday, I'll prove to you that you're wrong about me."

Watching her, I look at her, seeing the person that I feel like I know so well, yet hardly at all.

Reaching out, I startle her as I run my fingers across the last remnants of the gashes still healing across her face from the shooting in the desert – finger catching on a particularly deep mark near her brow.

"You've already started," I tell her honestly.

All of Sara's actions, all her behavior towards Catherine so far, has been nothing but gentle. Nothing but protecting and caring. These very marks under my fingers, they represent her risking her life to keep my friend safe. And, they're not the only, and not the first, ones the brunette carries.

She's been everything in a partner that I've ever hoped for for Catherine. Attentive, caring, loyal, protecting, safe. If I didn't know her past, I'd think she was perfect.

But, I do know her past. And, for better or worse, it's taking me time to believe that her past doesn't impact her present, her future. That it doesn't have bearing on the person that she is.

Do I trust her yet not to someday act on the anger and darkness she buries deep inside her? No, not completely. But, as she mentioned, I hope in time I can get to a place where I do.

Moving my hand so that it gently holds her face, I watch her struggle to allow the touch.

Her subtle flinching under my hand reminds me that, while Sara's past has been the point of hesitation regarding why I don't fully trust her with Catherine, that I've neglected to consider what Sara's past must be doing to _her_. What struggles she herself has had to work through to trust people, to trust Catherine. Trust me.

It's selfish to think that the only person her past has affected is us. She's the one who's been through hell for the better part of her life, abused and subjected to such horrors I can barely stand to think about it, and yet she's the one willing to try to put that aside and give the current people in her life a chance. To trust them enough to let them near her. To move forward so that her past doesn't stifle her present and the potential it holds.

"I know you're a good person, Sara," I get out, trying to keep the emotion from my voice. "Don't ever doubt that."

Running my thumb along her jaw, I lower my hand back to her shoulder.

Clearing my throat, I squeeze her arm.

"I want to keep getting to know you better, Sara. And I want to be there for you and Catherine while you try to make this work."

I take in a deep breath.

"If you'll allow me."

Sara's quiet, her body still stiff under my touch. Then, finally, I feel her take a breath. Then another.

"I think I'd like that." Her eyes finally lift up to mine.

There's a silence that stretches between us, but this time it isn't uncomfortable.

"I've missed you, Sara."

Sara smiles slightly at this, a small one that barely lifts the corners of her mouth, but it's there.

We both know that we'll never be anything romantic, anything significant to each other in that way. Not in this life. But, we both know a connection when we feel one. Though that connection has changed into something that's solely platonic, it's definitely still there.

Life is too short to push away the people in life you connect with. Even if it's just as friends.

Head lowering, Sara seems to hesitate under the weight of the moment.

Focusing near the table, she admits quietly, "I've missed you, too."

Then, eyes flashing to mine, we both watch the other. Feeling more at peace then I think we've both felt in a long time.

We aren't completely fixed, things aren't magically all better, we aren't back yet to even being friends. But, at least now we know that's something we both want.

Finishing our coffee together, we part ways a short time later in a much better place than we started.

As she's pulling her keys from her pocket and stepping out the door I lean against the frame.

"Hey, Sara?"

She turns, raising a brow.

"Just out of curiosity, if someone approached you with this as a prospective expansion offer – how much would you say it would cost you?"

Holding out my phone, she hesitates a moment before she takes it, brows furrowed curiously. Reading over the email on my phone, she glances away slightly as she works the numbers in her head.

Then, much quicker than I would have expected anyone to be able to do those types of calculations in their head, she looks up at me.

"Three forty two per unit."

Smiling, I nod eagerly. "Exactly! That fucking bastard needs to learn how to fucking divide."

Raising a brow, Sara looks both amused and slightly concerned as she hands me back my phone.

"If you ever decide to quit being a CSI and need a job as a contractor you let me know."

Sara gives a slight snort, "Yeah, I'll get right on that."

Sending me a small, genuine smile, she makes her way to her Jeep.

"Have a good night, Kelly."

* * *

CATHERINE POV

Sara draws up short, keys in her hand as she steps around the corner of her hall and sees me sitting outside her door.

Standing, I straighten out my sweater, "Hey."

"Catherine?" Sara questions, moving again as she makes her way to me. "Everything okay?"

I nod, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Everything's fine, don't worry."

She still looks a bit shaken and concerned by my sudden presence, reaching around me to open her door.

"Where's Lindsey?" she asks as neither of us make a move to go through it yet.

"She has an overnight school thing. Learning about solar systems or whatnot at the planetarium."

"Hmm," Sara considers this. "I'm actually kind of jealous."

Smiling slightly, I let out a light laugh, "I believe it."

Getting serious, Sara pushes her keys back in her pocket, still hovering in the doorway.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what brings you by?" she asks, still looking concerned.

"I was worried."

"About?"

"You, actually."

Sara now looks even more confused. "Me? Why?"

"You seemed a bit, off, at work. I know you said you were okay earlier, but it just seemed like something was bothering you all shift. You were miles away, even during the staff meeting."

"I…"

Sara trails off, eyes moving downward as she seems to work her way through this place we find ourselves in. Work her way through her options.

"Want to come inside?" she asks.

I'm happy for the offer, but it also makes my own concern rise slightly. If there was nothing to talk about she wouldn't be acting like this. I know for certain now that my hunch earlier was correct. There's something going on with her that she hasn't been open about sharing.

Stepping through her doorway, she follows shortly after. Tossing her things on the counter, she turns to start her coffeemaker.

"Sorry," she says, "but I could really use a cup. You?"

"Yes, thanks."

As I watch her, I note the exhaustion she just alluded to. She hides it well, but it's in the subtle dip to her shoulders, to the stiff tension in her posture.

"Make yourself comfortable," she offers while the coffee brews.

I do, but I don't go far, electing to lean against her counter, for some reason reluctant to leave her.

As she watches the dark liquid start to fill the pot, Sara must feel my presence still behind her.

"I went to see Kelly today," she says quietly.

Raising a brow, I take in the revelation.

"To talk?"

Sara nods, letting out a long breath, still keeping her back to me.

"Why didn't you say something before?" I question, knowing she's probably been worrying over this all day.

"I don't…" Sara starts, trailing off. "I usually don't…share…like that."

Tilting her head over her shoulder, she meets my eyes.

"I'm sorry," she tells me. "I should've told you. I don't know why I didn't. I just…"

She looks almost sad as her gaze grows heavy.

"It's been awhile since I've had someone to tell these things to, I guess. I'm used to just figuring things out on my own and doing them."

Standing up fully, I move slightly closer to her, giving her space but shortening the distance between us.

"I understand," I tell her honestly.

In fact, I find myself in the same position sometimes. It's been awhile since I've been with someone also, and sometimes I forget that there's now another person to consider when it comes to my day to day activities and decisions.

For someone as private as Sara is at baseline, it's probably only magnified.

"You know that I'm here for you though, right?" I ask. "That I _want _to be here for you for these sorts of things."

Sara nods, "I know."

Eyes meeting mine, we search each other's gazes.

"How did it go?" I ask a moment later when I can sort my thoughts.

Sara lets out a breath, "Good, I think. As good as could be expected, at least."

"You and her are okay?" I ask, not wanting to probe too deeply but to make sure that Sara and Kelly are in a relatively okay place. The specifics of what they said is their business.

"I think so," she answers, turning to pour the coffee into mugs. Knowing how I take mine, she fixes my cup from memory.

Handing it to me, she leans her hip against the counter.

"She told me what I already knew, but at least now it's out in the open."

"And you're okay?" I ask her, knowing Kelly's thoughts on Sara and her relationship with me.

As okay as Sara likes to act she is most of the time, I'd imagine being told someone doesn't trust you and thinks you're a potential danger to another person has to be hard to stomach.

"She's being honest," Sara supplies, eyes watching the steam rising from her coffee. "And I think it's reasonable for her to have the concerns that she does. Any sane person would share them."

"Not all sane people," I correct her, letting her see the honesty in my eyes. The absence of any reservations when it comes to my safety around Sara.

I trust her with my life. End of story.

"She cares about you," Sara says. "She wants you to be safe. I can't fault her for that."

Taking a deep breath, Sara straightens up.

"Not when she and I ultimately only want the same thing."

Watching her, I try to read her expression, try to reach deeper into her own thoughts on the matter. Giving up when I can't make it past enough of her walls to get a good read on her right now, I decide to take a gamble and just ask her directly.

"Do _you_ doubt my safety around you?" I ask. "Do you think you'd hurt me?"

Sara stiffens at my question, the directness. But, she doesn't avoid it, making me proud of the progress we've made between us.

"No," she says, voice quiet but sincere. "I know I could never hurt you. Not intentionally."

Her eyes lift to mine.

"I've been through too much shit in my life to ever be able to hurt someone I care about in that way. Even the thought of it…"

Sara breathes in tightly, hands clenched around her cup.

Moving forward, I place my free hand on her chest, feeling the tension underneath my fingers.

Watching her, she finally lets me see her, see through her walls to what's underneath. And, what's there is loyalty, trust, respect, tenderness, safety. What's there is beautiful.

"I've fallen so hard for you," I get out in a whisper, lost in her gaze.

Putting her coffee down, Sara places her own hands gently along my hips, keeping our gazes locked. Leaning in, she places a gentle kiss along my lips, the tenderness and care harbored there nearly taking my breath away.

When she pulls back, she keeps her head near mine, her mouth near my ear.

"You deserve so much in this world," she tells me, voice quiet but strong. "I promise to try to be everything that you deserve. For as long as you let me."

Placing a gentle kiss near my hairline she leans back, eyes down but still unguarded.

Leaning in, I run my hand through her hair, encouraging her gaze to lift back up to mine.

I want to tell her so much. Tell her that she's already above and beyond anything I've ever imagined. That she's been everything I'd ever dreamed about, but had given up hope of ever finding.

I want to say so many things, but no words seem adequate. Instead, I kiss her softly, hoping it will communicate what my words cannot.

When we finally pull away, we let the silence fall around us, enjoying simply being in each other's presence.

As we finish our coffees contentedly, I note her posture, and the things that first caught my attention today.

"You look exhausted," I state. "Let's go lay down."

She pauses at my words, body going still.

"Catherine?"

"Just to sleep," I tell her as I put our mugs in the sink. "Nothing more. Not yet."

Reading my intentions, she relaxes slightly, letting me take her hand and lead her towards the rest of her apartment.

Seeing her bed that looks like it hasn't been touched in a week, I glance instead to the couch that has a blanket spread out on it.

Raising a concerned brow, I note her eyes lowering away from mine.

"Couch?" I offer, interpreting the unspoken evidence around me.

"Please," she requests quietly, voice sounding embarrassed.

I'm not sure what's going on that's making her avoid her bed, but I decide now is not the time to get into it. Instead, I reassuringly squeeze her hand, leading us to the couch.

Situating myself, Sara does the same, pulling the blanket over our legs so that we can share.

For the first couple minutes we sit somewhat stiffly, not quite sure how to proceed. But, eventually exhaustion seems to win out, Sara all but losing consciousness next to me as her head falls to an awkward angle along her side of the couch.

Noting how tired she is to be lowering her guard first, I take matters into my own hands.

Reaching over, I hold her shoulders, taking her with me as I lay us down. Grabbing a pillow for our heads, I situate myself behind her so that I can wrap my arm around her stomach.

Grunting groggily, Sara shakes her head, shifting herself around so that I'm in front of her. Then, she essentially reverses our positions, placing her arms protectively around me.

Glancing over at her, any comments, teasing or otherwise, that I have are immediately silenced when I realize she's already half asleep. Smiling to myself instead at Sara's protective nature, even when she's half unconscious, I simply snuggle further into her.

Resting my head on her shoulder, she holds me close, the warmth from her body and her steady breathing making my own eyes fall closed as I note the exhaustion I'm also feeling.

Respecting Sara's preference to hold rather than be held, I settle for reaching down and taking one of her hands that's wrapped around my waist. Intertwining our fingers, I replace our now joined appendages to my stomach. Shifting slightly at the movement, Sara again grows still, her body relaxing as we both start to drift off.

It's in this moment, held securely in her arms, that I have no doubt that this woman offers me nothing but care, gentleness, protection.

For all the darkness in her past, I cannot thank the universe enough that she herself displays only so much light. So much peace and comfort.

I only pray that I can bring her the same.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	40. Chapter 40

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Many thanks to all of you, and especially to those taking the time to review. **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 40

_"Well I have brittle bones it seems_  
_I bite my tongue and torch my dreams_  
_Have a little voice to speak with_  
_And a mind of thoughts and secrecy_  
_Things cannot be reversed, we learn from the times we are cursed_  
_Things cannot be reversed, learn from the ones we fear the worst."_

_-Daughter, "Candles"_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Where do you go?"

Sara's hand stills, pausing in its motions through my hair.

"Hmm?" she asks, voice quiet in the early hour.

"When you get up during the middle of the night, where do you go?"

Sara's motions now all pause, going completely still beneath me.

"What do you mean?" she questions, but her voice tells me she knows exactly what I mean. Eventually, she sighs. "I thought I didn't wake you. I'm sorry."

I let out a gentle laugh, snuggling deeper into her arms, my head resting softly on her shoulder.

"I didn't want an apology, Sara. I'm a guest in your home, you can do whatever you want. I was just wondering where it was you went when you left," I look slightly up at her, watching her watch the morning sunlight dancing across the ceiling of her living room. "I fell asleep again before you got back."

Sara doesn't answer for a while, and I begin thinking she never will. But, then, she takes in a deep breath, voice almost resigned when she answers, "I went for a run."

"Why?"

Again, more silence.

"I'm not used to sleeping through the night. I kept waking up so I decided to try to clear my head."

"Did it work?"

Sara smiles slightly, "Sure."

"Liar."

Laughing, she shakes her head, resuming her motions of gently running her fingers through my hair. The sensation is wonderful, and nearly relaxing enough to send me back into slumber.

"Don't worry," she tells me. "I got more sleep last night then I think I've gotten all month."

I snort, "That's not very encouraging, judging on the limited amount you got last night."

Sara shrugs, my head following the motion slightly. "Maybe I'm a vampire."

Snorting again, I hit her lightly on the chest. "I think a zombie would be a more apt description."

Sara smiles, resting her head gently atop mine, her body warm and solid underneath me.

"You know I'm always here for you, right?" I ask her, voice growing serious. "If you want to talk about it."

Squeezing my free hand in hers, she places a gentle kiss into my hair.

"I know."

The room falls back to silence, both of us simply content lying in each other's arms. It's one of the first times we've really had to ourselves, able to be close like this outside of work. And, I have to admit I'm enjoying every moment of it.

"You have any thoughts about what you want to do for breakfast?" Sara asks after a while. "I can make us something if you'd like."

I raise a brow, "Really?"

Laughing lightly at my expression, Sara shakes her head. "I'm hurt by your lack of confidence in me and my culinary abilities."

"I've seen the inside of your fridge."

Snorting, Sara smiles. "Touché."

Angling her head down towards me, she looks at me, eyes earnest. "But I actually already made you something. Very special, just for you."

I study her, trying like hell to figure out if she's being serious.

"Really?"

She nods, "I spent hours."

Tilting her head, she indicates the counter on the other side of the room, separating her living room from her kitchen.

Seeing the plate of scones there, I furrow my brows.

"Wait, seriously?" I ask. "How…"

Looking back up at her, I note the tug of a smile pulling at her lips.

"You're an ass."

Sara laughs, face breaking into a genuine smile when she hears the words I've tossed at her now more times than I can count.

"There happens to be a very delicious bakery on the way back from my run."

"So you ran the rest of the way home with a bag of scones in your hands?" I raise a brow, chuckling at the imagery my brain is supplying.

"Don't question the methods of procurement. Simply enjoy the treasures of that which was procured."

Shaking my head, I lean up, placing a kiss to her smiling lips.

"You are very unique, Sara Sidle, you know that?"

Sara hums into the kiss, deepening it as she runs her hand down my side, fingers trailing softly along the edge of my shirt. If she keeps this up, I'm never going to want to leave this couch, delicious scones be damned.

When we both seem to come to the same conclusion, Sara and I pull back, holding each other as we try to collect ourselves. I want to keep kissing her, touching her, exploring the beautiful body beneath me. But, I know that we can't, shouldn't, go there. Not yet.

My thoughts remind me of our current situation, and the conversation that I think Sara and I need to have. And, in my opinion, have sooner rather than later.

"You have plans today?" I ask.

Sara breathes in slowly, getting herself back to normal.

"Not really," she says. "You?"

I pause, before deciding to go for it.

"I was actually hoping you would be up for perhaps doing something together today? Spend some time with one another before shift tonight?" I pose hopefully.

She stays quiet a moment before nodding, "Yeah, sounds great. Did you have anything particular in mind?"

Considering my options, I elect for one I haven't had time to do since I got here. "I actually was thinking of taking a nice hike in the desert, if you're up for it."

I used to enjoy spending time outdoors in Montana, often going for relaxing walks and hikes on my time away from work. I haven't had a chance to explore much of Nevada's scenery, and I'd enjoy spending some time out in nature when I'm not there to process a body.

Sara nods, "Always up for a hike."

Smiling, we hold each other a bit longer before finally separating so that we can eat our breakfast and start our day.

And yes, the scones were amazing.

* * *

As I look around, my eyes can't keep up with the stunning scenery around us. Breaths coming quickly as I place one foot in front of the other, I try to keep focused on the ascent ahead of us.

"You've never been here before?" I ask, noting Sara referencing the trail markers as we go.

"Once," she answers me, her own breathing coming quicker than usual, but significantly less labored than my own. "Around the time I first came to Vegas."

I smile, Sara and I having unknowingly both picked this location for one of our first Nevada hikes.

"Holy shit the sun is hot," I get out between breaths, pausing to try to steady my heart rate.

The ground has flattened out for a few yards, allowing this as a good place to take a quick rest.

"Water," Sara offers, or more like demands, holding the bottle out to me and making sure I take enough.

I cringe thinking that there were moments where I seriously debated whether we would need to bring any. The trail isn't very long, just over a few miles, but it's nearly a constant climb in regards to elevation. Now, the sun blazing down on us and absolutely no foliage for shade, I know we would've been in a rough spot if Sara hadn't insisted.

Sitting myself down on a rock that's about knee height, I take in the feeling of the blood pumping through my veins, the blessed fatigue already in my straining muscles. Call me crazy, but it feels damn good. It's been so long since I've been able to do something like this, pushing my body to this point, and it is something I've missed these last months with all the transitions happening in my life that have been keeping me busy.

"How're you doing?" Sara asks me, her own eyes closing briefly as she angles her head up to take in the light breeze.

"Good," I answer honestly. "Definitely hot as blazes, but it feels so good to be out here."

Sara smiles, glancing over at me. Seeing her expression cringing slightly, she moves a few steps closer.

"What?" I question her expression.

"I think you're burning a bit…"

Following her gaze to my shoulders, I curse my fair complexion, the pink already evident along my skin there. Glancing around, Sara looks at the items we brought, both of us not exactly sure of a solution.

Then, taking in a deep breath, Sara glances down at her shirt.

"I have sleeves," she hedges nervously. "If you want…"

Seeing where she's going, I shake my head.

"No way, I can't let you do that."

"Catherine," she tells me hesitantly but seriously, "we're almost at the top, but we still have over an hour hike to get back to the car. Your shoulders are going to get seriously burned if we don't get them out of the direct sun."

"But what about you?" I pose, noting that she doesn't have anything on under her shirt beyond her sports bra.

"I'll be fine," she tells me. "I usually end up taking my shirt off during most of my runs anyway – my skin is used to this type of sun."

That is definitely not imagery I needed when I'm already nervous about Sara being less clothed than she is. It's been hard enough keeping my focus on our hike instead of the person taking the hike with me. The way her well defined leg muscles flex as she moves gracefully across the rough terrain…

But, realizing we really have no other option at this point, and that Sara feels just as awkward about this as I do, I let out a breath.

"You sure?" I ask again. "I'm sorry…"

"It's really no big deal," she tells me. "And, let's be honest, nothing you haven't seen before."

Reaching down, she pulls her v-neck t-shirt over her head, turning away slightly to shake it out.

"Sorry it's a bit sweaty," she apologizes, turning back around to toss it at me.

Catching the material, I could care less about the sweat. Not when I'm just as sweaty as she is right now, if not more.

Pulling it over my head, I can't help but smile that it still smells only of Sara. Feeling the immediate relief of the direct, unrelenting sun off my shoulders, I make a mental note to never again wear camisoles hiking.

"Thanks," I tell her. "I can't seem to stop needing your help with clothing."

Memory going back to when she lent me her sweater not too long ago in these same deserts, it seems ironic that now I need to borrow her clothing for the complete opposite reason.

Sara smiles lightly, no doubt noting the irony as well, "You're welcome."

Drinking some more water, I try to keep my gaze on her eyes. Try to ignore the fact that she's in nothing more than a black and grey sports bra, her lean, toned body nearly on full display. And, holy shit, does she have a ridiculous body. She's right, it's nothing I haven't seen before. But, now it's somehow different. Before I was seeing her to try to monitor her injuries, focused solely on her health and wellbeing, too distracted to notice much beyond my goal.

Now, instead, there's nothing keeping me from simply seeing _her_. The thin, firm musculature that exudes fitness and strength. The tanned skin that glistens slightly under the bright sun.

Clearing her throat, Sara turns slightly to the side, appearing almost self-conscious as she takes some swallows from her own water. I can't help but question how someone who looks as damn good as she does could have any uncertainty about their appearance. But, this is Sara, one of the most private and reserved people I know.

Also, as she turns, the sun catches off some discolorations in her skin. Areas of lighter pigment where there's a clear scar or abrasion.

It's this that has me realizing the source of Sara's discomfort.

Moving to a stand, I finish some more water before placing the remainder back in our pack. Stepping close, Sara's still angled away from me.

Reaching out, I gently place my hand along her skin, fingers finding one of the deeper scars from her recent stabbing. Trailing down the length of it, I feel Sara's breath catch as her body stiffens.

"You are so beautiful, Sara."

She keeps her gaze averted, her body still tense and stiff under my touch.

When she finally turns, my fingers find their way to the definition of her stomach muscles, tracing along the firmness of the skin along her torso.

"God, you…" I trail off, shaking my head. "You are amazing."

Swallowing, Sara's head lowers slightly.

"Like I said, nothing you haven't seen before."

I know she's referring to her scars, both to the ones that I know the cause of, and the larger proportion that I don't. Though I can guess the general culprits. Her tone is sad, resigned – like she's accepted the marks on her body and how other people likely view her because of them.

But, my God, she couldn't be more wrong.

Everything about her, every mark, every abrasion, it does nothing to detract from her. If anything, it only adds to the already beautiful canvas. It gives evidence of hardships, of challenges, of demons that have been overcome. Trials that have been concurred to leave only the person still standing strong beneath them.

"We all have pasts," I tell Sara, voice honest. "And, if scars bother you, perhaps you shouldn't be thinking of being with someone who has her share of her own. Including from when she had a child."

Eyes narrowing, Sara glances up, gaze finally meeting mine. She looks confused, and a little hurt.

"I think you're beautiful, Catherine. Beyond beautiful. I would never look at you any differently, and especially not for something like that."

I watch her, holding her gaze. "Then don't presume I would either."

Seeing my point, Sara's cheeks redden slightly as she looks almost ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she offers quietly after a few moments. "People before you, they…there's always questions when they see them…and…judgments…"

Reaching out, I take her hand, "I get it. I do." Running my other hand down her side, I shake my head. "But I'm not them. And, holy hell, Sar…"

Looking at me, she seems to read the passion in my eyes, the desire that's there. The fact that I have feelings that are centered in emotions like awe, lust, and longing, not centered in anything she's been fearful of. Swallowing, she nods, seeming to finally take me at face value, to accept that I'm not just trying to placate her or make her feel better.

"I feel the same when I look at you," she confesses to me quietly, eyes moving lower before traveling back up to my eyes. "And I can't even imagine…"

Reading through her unspoken words, I nod, feeling the same.

"I think we need to talk, Sara."

Perhaps misinterpreting my statement, Sara stiffens, body hesitantly moving slightly back.

"No," I tell her, pulling her back to me. "Not in a bad way. In a good way."

Head quirking slightly, she tries to give me the benefit of the doubt.

"What do you say we finish these last few minutes to the top, then take a rest for some food and conversation when we're up there?" I pose.

Sara studies me a moment more before she nods, grabbing our pack and slinging it over her shoulder.

* * *

"I can't believe you managed to pack all this," I take a bite of my peanut butter sandwich, not really sure how Sara had the time to prepare this extensive of a lunch while I got ready this morning.

She just smiles, reaching out to take my hand in hers as she finishes her own sandwich in silence.

As we get to the snacks, I push most of the remaining bags in her direction. Sending me a slightly confused look, she takes a few more pretzels, chewing them quietly as she watches the view over the canyon that's before us.

While Sara's body is beyond fit, there's definitely a bit more prominence to some of her bones than I would like, particularly as I note the sharpness to her spine as she leans forward. Sara's always looking out for me, just like she has continued to do so today – insisting I drink enough water, giving me her shirt to keep me from burning. She's often so strong and stoic that it's easy to forget that she could use someone looking out for her as well.

"It's amazing when you think about how old this place is," Sara states quietly, resting her arms on her knees as she gazes over the rock formations below us. "To think this canyon was carved by glaciers all those years ago."

I take in the scenery with her, the beauty up here well worth the hike.

Sighing, Sara eventually leans back, pushing away the rest of the snacks as she focuses towards me.

"You wanted to talk."

I nod, respecting that she wants to address the unspoken topic hanging between us.

"I think we need to establish some sense of where we're headed. What we want and how we plan to proceed."

Sara looks worried, like she's concerned I'm having doubts.

"Sara," I move closer, setting myself directly beside her. "When I'm around you I have a very hard time keeping myself collected. There are…things…that I want to do…with you…"

I take a steadying breath.

"But I want to be careful about this. It's hard, and not something I'm used to doing if I'm honest." I place my hand along her arm, holding her tightly. "But I want to get this right."

I know Sara's processing my words, her pensive eyes focused on the drop off of the canyon about 20 yards ahead of us.

"So do I," Sara says quietly. "I don't want to rush into anything before we're both certain."

I nod, "I have Lindsey to think about. I can't just casually go around bringing people into her life until there's something official, something permanent there."

Sara's eyes are hard to read, her body somewhat tense beneath my hand.

"You know I would never do anything to put Lindsey in a bad place, emotionally or physically."

Sara's words are genuine, serious.

"I know," I assure her, running my fingers down her arm and back up again. "It's not you I'm worried about."

Letting out a long sigh, I shake my head, "I've rushed into relationships more often than not. Letting myself follow my immediate desires with no concern for the long term. I can't allow myself to do that anymore."

"Are you…" Sara's voice trails off, her dark gaze still on the canyon. "Are you questioning if there's a long term? With us?"

Eyes widening, I hold her arm firmly. When she still doesn't look at me, I reach out to turn her face gently towards me.

"Sara, every time I see you, I only fall harder for you. When I'm away from you, I want nothing more than to go spend time with you. I want a long term with you," I tell her honestly, pointedly. "So badly. And, that's why I don't want to mess this up."

I watch her, let her see everything within me.

"I think we have a shot at something truly special," I get out. "I already feel things for you I haven't felt for anyone I've been with before. And that's why I want to be sure we go about this the right way."

Sara's body language is hard to read, her eyes on mine before she lowers them slightly.

"I want you to be comfortable," she tells me. "I'm willing to go forward however you would like. At whatever pace you feel is right, for both you and Lindsey."

I appreciate her answer, and I appreciate _her_ all the more for it. For being the respectful person that I already knew her to be. She's willing to let me dictate pace in this process, again deferring to me and my family.

"But what about you, Sara?" I ask, not wanting her to keep putting herself second. In this she's my equal, my partner. We need to make these decisions together. "What do _you_ want?"

"I want you to be happy."

Her answer is simple, honest, and pure. She watches me, gaze steady.

"I know what my heart wants, Catherine," she confesses. "I have no doubts regarding where I want this to go, and the timeframe at which I would be comfortable getting there. But, more importantly, I want you to feel safe and comfortable, and I want you to know that Lindsey will always be my priority as well." She sends me a slight nod. "I'm not going anywhere. It takes as long as it takes."

Her patience, her willingness to move at my pace, touches me in a way and a depth that I didn't expect. All this time, to finally be with someone who puts me first, puts my daughter first. Even when she's just confessed that she herself would be holding back because of it. It's astounding to me to feel this level of respect, to feel this cherished by someone.

"You're that sure?" I ask, her admission having somewhat surprised me. "You'd already be okay to move forward with me?"

Sara smiles, cheeks tinging slightly pink as she looks down.

"I can read people," she says, expression getting serious. "It doesn't take me long to know what someone's about, to know their intentions and whether I'm okay with them. Despite my best efforts to the contrary," she confesses, "I already trust you."

Just when I'm getting over the last revelation, this one nearly floors me.

To hear someone like Sara Sidle say that she trusts me in that way. After everything she's been through in this life, including everything _I've_ put her through during my investigation of her, it makes my heart clench with emotions I can't quite fathom.

Leaning in, I kiss her, the act a mix of relief and desperation. My ears hearing words I feared in some deep, dark place that I would never hear from Sara. To be trusted by her, after everything, after all the people in her life who've taken advantage of her, I cannot express the gratitude and humility.

Hand in her hair, the kiss deepens, her mouth granting me access when I seek it. Feeling my other hand place itself along her hip, I register the bare skin there. The lack of clothing is what finally causes me to separate.

"If I'm going to stick to my goal of taking this slow," I get out between breathes, "I can't continue with where that was headed."

Smiling slightly, Sara shakes her head, leaning forward to place a gentle, more chaste kiss along my lips.

"I'm not going anywhere," she again promises. "I will follow your pace, Catherine. I want to get this right as well."

I reach out, drawing her to me as I hold her close. She returns the gesture, placing an arm around me as we watch the light dance across the canyon.

It's strange, but having Sara's patience and promise to take this as slow as I need, it only makes me want her all the more. Makes me want to break my vow to myself and already have this kind, sensitive, and caring person completely in my life, in all the ways that matter.

To be able to declare us as something official to ourselves, our friends, and to the people in our lives that matter most.

Because, Sara herself has already become one of the people in my life that matters most.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	41. Chapter 41

**AN: Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing - you guys are amazing. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 41

_"Pretty much all the honest truth telling there is in the world is done by children." _

_-Oliver Wendell Holmes _

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"And I thought my case was bad…"

Sara looks up, her expression half grimace and half eye roll.

"Grissom thinks this is funny."

"Making you sift through what looks like animal feces?"

"Not looks like…"

My eyes widen the same time I shudder.

"Someone should really speak with that man," I suggest. "The things he finds appropriate for the sake of 'scientific advancement' is really off base."

Sara smiles slightly, and I'm glad to at least have brightened her previously dark expression – even if just slightly. We've both been working hard these past two weeks, fielding multiple cases – some together, most apart.

"Is this even relevant to your case?" I ask curiously, gesturing to the multiple labeled tubes and samples spread out in front of her.

"Not really," Sara shakes her head, affirming my fears. "The only potentially relevant one was sent for processing hours ago. These are so we can learn about the 'current evolutionary stage of these rare species found in remote desert locations'."

"Seriously?"

Sara's expression gives me my answer.

"Yikes," I breathe out, still keeping a fair distance from the questionable samples. "That seems like a waste of your time when you don't have much of it to begin with."

"Yeah, well apparently we shouldn't miss this rare opportunity to document the current chemical compositions of these…samples…in case we run into another case in the same area. Can serve as a recent, baseline reference value."

"And if they never end up needing to be used?" I pose.

Sara sends me a look, "Then I just spent my morning sifting through shit for no reason whatsoever."

I shake my head slowly, "Oh my."

Straightening up, Sara tosses her gloves in the trash bin next to the layout table.

"I'm pretty much finished," she says, glancing over all the freshly labeled tubes in front of her. "Did you need anything?"

"Actually," I say, stepping slightly closer now that all the 'specimens' have been safely sealed away. "I saw on the schedule this morning that we both have tomorrow off?"

Sara hesitates a moment, and I know she likely was planning to come in, even on her day off. The woman works more than she sleeps, perhaps even breathes.

Eventually, she just nods, looking up at me.

"I was wondering if you wanted to spend the day with Lindsey and I."

At this, Sara goes still, her eyes remaining on mine as they widen slightly.

"Oh…"

"If you don't want to…"

"No," Sara immediately cuts it. "No, God, that's not…"

Taking a deep breath, she stands to her full height. "I'd love to, really. You have no idea how much I'd love that. It's just…" she searches my gaze. "Are you sure?"

I see the uncertainty in her expression, the parts of her that are questioning whether we're ready for this. It's a huge step forward, and she recognizes that at much as anyone.

It's almost been a month now since we started officially 'dating' and getting to know one another. For the last couple weeks we've been spending any available free time together, often stopping for dinner after shifts, grabbing coffee early in the morning, spending evenings when Lindsey is away watching movies together on the couch – holding each other close until someone, usually me, eventually falls asleep.

It's been wonderful, and the time we've spent together has only deepened my feelings for this woman in front of me. There's nothing making me hesitate regarding taking this next step. On the contrary, I've only fallen harder for her, and I'm finding myself anxious to take this further. To finally move forward and truly be together.

"I'm sure," I tell her sincerely, letting her see for herself just how sure I am.

Eyes still searching mine, she nods, "Okay, if you're positive…"

"Sara." I fix her with a look. "I'm sure."

Finally seeming to trust what I'm saying, she nods, "Okay."

"Okay," I breathe out in relief. "I was thinking maybe a museum or something? Seeing as how the majority of us in attendance will be nerds who would enjoy something like that."

Sara snorts, "Did you just call me a nerd?"

"Yup, and Lindsey."

Smiling, I reach out, running my fingers along her arm until I squeeze her hand in mine. "It's definitely not a bad thing."

Cheeks flushing slightly, Sara chances a step closer, our bodies now toeing the line between professional distance and personal.

"Noted."

Getting serious before I lose all control with her standing this close to me, I look up at her hazel gaze.

"I was thinking though….that maybe we should also ask Kelly."

It's only because she's standing so close that I note the slight stiffening to Sara's posture. Her eyes leave mine, now studying the edge of the table.

"Oh," she says, trying to sound casual about it. "Yeah, sure."

"Sara."

Reaching over, I place my hand along her hip, resting it there.

"Sara look at me."

When she finally brings her gaze back up to mine, I shake my head at the self-doubt I see her holding there.

"You didn't misread my intentions," I assure her. "This is for you and Lindsey to get to know one another because I want to move forward with you. And, before I make that final step I want to be sure you and Lindsey are in a good place."

I see her listening, staying quiet as she hears me out.

"But, Lindsey will know something's up if it's just the two of us. I think for this first time it's better to pose this as an outing with mom and two of her friends. Lindsey needs to get to know you first in that setting before I feel comfortable telling her that you're actually something more."

Running my thumb along the prominence of her hip, I keep my gaze steady.

"Something much more."

I know Sara has a tendency to doubt herself sometimes, to trust that she's valued and cherished by people the way they claim she is. I want her to know that inviting Kelly has nothing to do with me having doubts about her. Actually the opposite. I think Sara and I have so much potential going forward, and so I want to do this right. I can't tip my hand with my daughter quite yet.

Not on their first meeting.

"Okay," Sara's quiet voice cuts into my thoughts.

I look her over. "Really?" I question, not wanting her to censor herself around me. "You're really okay with it?"

Sara nods, "I get why you're doing it, and I agree. Lindsey needs to get to know me, and I need to get to know her. But that's going to be much harder if she already knows I'm…"

"Dating her mother."

Sara blushes slightly, "Yes."

I know Sara understands my motivations, and I know from her expression that she does ultimately agree with them. But, it's still asking a lot of the brunette.

"I'm sorry to make the already stressful day even more stressful for you," I offer, knowing Lindsey would have been nerve wracking enough. Now it's Lindsey and Kelly, whom Sara has still been on shaky ground with for a while now.

"It's fine," Sara assures me, placing her hand over mine where it still rests on her hip.

"You sure?" I question, eyes on hers.

"I'm sure," she affirms, squeezing my hand in hers. "I'm excited and honored to get to know your daughter, Catherine. Everything else is irrelevant."

Seeing the sincerity in her expression, I realize for what has to be the thousandth time, just how blessed I am to have Sara in my life. To be pursuing something this wonderful, this fulfilling, with someone this caring. She's everything I'd thought only existed in fairy tales and romance novels.

"Where did you come from?" I question quietly, shaking my head at her.

Furrowing her brows, Sara looks concerned, "Did they not teach sex education in Montana?"

Smacking her arm, I laugh, the tension between us leaving.

"You're a doofus," I inform her.

"Thought I was a nerd."

Smiling, I reach up, placing a chaste kiss along her cheek.

"You're allowed to be both."

As I pull back, we exchange a smile, giving our joined hands one last squeeze before we separate to distances much more appropriate for the workplace.

"I'll see you around?" I question, making my way to the door.

Sara nods, her smile still ghosting along her lips, "See you around."

* * *

"You okay?" I catch sight of Sara, entering through the main doors of the museum. It only took one glance at her to note how pale she is.

"Yeah," Sara assures me, nodding as she glances around me to spot Kelly and Lindsey already exploring one of the nearby exhibits.

"Sara."

Looking over at me, she seems to finally take in my concerned expression.

Letting out a long breath, she reaches over, briefly taking my hand.

"I'm fine, Cath, I promise."

Squeezing her hand back, I let them drop to our sides, deciding to let it go for now.

"Hey," I call her attention back to me before we join the others.

When her eyes meet mine, I send her a small smile.

"You're going to be fine," I assure her. "You don't have to be nervous. Lindsey's going to love you."

Watching me, Sara nods slowly before taking a steadying breath, swallowing tightly as she separates from me, moving to join the others.

* * *

"You think we should intervene?" Kelly questions, taking a few swallows from the water bottles we just grabbed from the gift shop a few minutes earlier.

Looking over at where Lindsey is very adamantly arguing something with Sara, I shake my head.

"They're okay."

Their backs are to us, Sara squatting down to Lindsey's height as they both look into a glass box holding a model of the arrangements of the Earth's early continents. Pangea, if I remember correctly from our last visit.

Sara listens to Lindsey's passionate statements, watching my daughter as Lindsey gestures emphatically. We're too far away to hear what's being said, but it's clear that they're both very invested in this particular discussion.

When Lindsey finishes, Sara gestures towards something in front of them, giving her own thoughts on whatever matter it is that seems to be getting debated between them.

"How are things?" Kelly asks, watching them alongside me. "With Sara."

"Good," I answer honestly. "Very good."

"You two…?"

"No," I answer her unspoken question. "I'm sticking to my plan on this one. Though, to be honest," I state, looking over at the beautiful woman across the room from us, "it's been torture holding back."

Kelly nods with a small, knowing smile.

Even today, dressed casually in jeans and a light grey sweater, old soccer style pumas on her feet, Sara looks amazing. It's hard to fathom how someone can just simply emanate so much beauty so effortlessly, just naturally stunning. Not to mention how squatting down like she is now only emphasizes her gracefully long legs tucked beneath her – not even mentioning the sliver of tanned skin exposed along her lean back where her sweater is riding up slightly from her jeans.

Clearing my throat, I shake my head.

"Torture," I simply reemphasize.

Laughing slightly, Kelly gives my shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"Let me know if you need me to take Linds on a weekend camping trip sometime soon…"

Smiling at this, at the unspoken insinuation it holds, I nod. "I will." Then, glancing over at our companions, my smile falters a bit. "But first they need to survive today."

Seeing the continued 'discussion' having only escalated, my heart starts to clench uncomfortably. All this time, I never gave a single thought to what I would do if Sara and Lindsey _don't _hit it off. It's not a guarantee that Lindsey would like Sara. In fact, my daughter has an uncomfortably high number of people that she clearly would rather _not_ spend time with. She's at that age where she's brutally honest, and she isn't going to sugarcoat it if she doesn't enjoy your company.

"Should we be worried?" Kelly asks, her own brows furrowing in concern as she takes in the animated gestures coming from the still stationary duo.

"I'm honestly not sure," I answer, my heartrate starting to pick up as my brain begins unhelpfully providing multiple thoughts of misgiving.

Please don't let this be happening.

* * *

"You okay?" Kelly asks as she approaches, looking back briefly to be sure that Lindsey is still happily listening to the demonstration being given by one of the museum volunteers.

Sara glances up, eyes barely meeting Kelly's as she nods.

"You sure?" Kelly questions, expression concerned. Gaze shifting between Sara and I, she offers, "Do you guys want some privacy to talk?"

"No," Sara answers quickly.

Too quickly.

Perhaps realizing her own tone, she straightens up, taking a steadying breath. "No, Kelly. Stay. I'm going to go get some water."

Raising a brow, Kelly watches Sara's retreat, expression growing even more worried as we both follow the brunette until she disappears around the corner.

"What…" Looking back over at me, Kelly shakes her head. "Did she say what happened? What they were arguing about before?"

"No," I shake my own head. "She's barely said two words to me."

Kelly takes this in, "Linds didn't say much either. Just a few choice comments that were slightly too rude to be repeated."

I grimace, "Shit."

"How did this happen?" I question after a few more moments of tense silence. "How was I so sure that they would immediately adore one another that I didn't even account for this possibility?"

"You anticipated what you wanted to happen," Kelly supplies gently. "You love both Lindsey and Sara, so you automatically assumed they would love each other."

I note Kelly's use of the L word. The one that I know is, in fact, how I feel about Sara. No matter how much it scares me to hear it said aloud, to admit it to myself.

"What do I do?" I pose desperately, clearly at a loss as my mind is still numbly trying to acknowledge what's happening. Acknowledge the disaster this day has become, let alone how to deal with it.

"I don't know," Kelly answers quietly after a few minutes, her own voice sounding pained.

While Kelly and Sara have their own history, I know she ultimately wants me to be happy. Sara and I both to be happy.

"She's been gone a while," I state after a few more moments of silence and no sign of Sara.

Kelly nods, "Why don't you let me go speak with her."

I glance up, eyes narrowed, "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Sara and I are still working through things, yes, but we're in a much better place than we were," my friend tells me. "And I think right now she maybe needs to speak with someone other than…"

"Other than me."

Kelly nods, eyes warm as she tries to soften the message.

But, it's a message that I have to agree with.

Seeing my expression, Kelly gives me a supportive look, straightening up as she heads off.

"Kelly."

Turning, she faces me.

"Take care of her. Please."

Kelly gives me a nod, promising without words to do just that.

* * *

KELLY POV

"Hey."

Sara spins, clearly not having heard my approach.

"Hey, easy," I call, noting just how tense she is, her back ramrod straight as she stands against the railing of the outside observation deck she's retreated to, the wooden deck overlooking the conserved plants and animals the museum cares for.

"What are you doing out here?" Sara asks me. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

"I'm out here because I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," Sara states predictably. "You should be with Catherine and Lindsey."

"Stop." Moving up in front of Sara, I shake my head. "You're not going to push me away, not now. So let's not waste our time."

"Kelly."

"I'm serious," I retort tightly. "You and I have our complications. But right now I'm here, for you, as a friend, Sara."

"Why?"

"For fucks sake, Sara," I get out. "I care about you. And I thought we ended our last conversation with agreement to try to be friends. Or was I hallucinating all of that?"

Tightening her jaw, Sara rubs her temples. When she pulls her hand down, I note that it's trembling.

"What happened?" I ask her, voice much softer this time around. "Between you and Lindsey?"

Sara's head lowers, her expression darkening even further.

"Sara."

Swallowing, Sara stiffens.

"She hates me," she gets out. "That's what happened."

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you," I counter, all the while knowing how blunt children can be sometimes. Lindsey included. "Tell me what happened."

"We," Sara sighs in frustration, her arm gesturing out to the side. "We were talking about the exhibit, and then we just started arguing."

Sara shakes her head, pacing slightly along the railing.

"For God's sake I was arguing with a 5 year old," she gets out. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Hey," I reach out, trying to put myself in her path. "Calm down."

"Seriously?" Sara questions, dark brow raised in anger. "I just watched Catherine's complete devastation in there because I'm too much of an idiot to be able to get along with a 5 year old child. Her child. And you want me to calm down?"

I note her tone, her posture, everything that's telling me to back off. But, I also know Catherine's insistence that Sara's bark is worse than her bite.

I guess now is a good a time as any to test that theory.

"Yes, Sara," I state just as sternly. "I want you to calm the fuck down."

When she shakes her head and starts to turn away, I grab her not so gently by the shirt and pull her back around.

"You're not walking away from me. From this."

"Let go of me."

"Not until you stop acting like an idiot."

"Kelly," she growls out. "Let. Go. Of. Me."

I stand my ground, keeping my grip firm, our bodies mere inches apart as we stare each other down.

When it becomes clear that I'm not releasing her, Sara's body tenses uncomfortably, her head angling to the side as she tries to create space between us the only way she can. But, her hands remain in tight fists along her side, never once raising towards me, never once getting aggressive back.

"I'm not letting you walk out of here without talking this through," I offer, my own tone tempering slightly. "You can't keep closing yourself off and shutting down when things become too much. Not when you're in a relationship with someone who's counting on you not to."

Sara lets out a dark, low laugh at this.

"I'm not so sure I'm in a relationship anymore."

"Sara," I shake my head. "You need to stop assuming the worst about this. Catherine isn't going to turn her back on you just because you had a rough start with her daughter."

"She made it clear that she's only okay with this relationship if Lindsey's on board. And," Sara shakes her head. "Lindsey's clearly not on board."

Watching Sara, seeing the dark shadows creeping across her expression, I feel my heart start to sink in understanding. Start to sink when I register her specific choice of words. What she's actually saying.

"Lindsey knows you and Cath are dating."

Sara swallows tightly, "I don't know how, but yes, she knows."

"Did she…?"

"Say anything?" Sara shakes her head. "No, but she knows. It was pretty clear from the first moment we were alone."

And, suddenly, things start to make sense. I know Lindsey. The girl's brilliant, and often is much more aware of what's going on around her than people give her credit for at her age. And, what's more, is she's creative. She knows the best way to break up her mother and Sara is to hate Sara before she even gets to know her.

She probably fought against Sara about every single thing she could, whether or not she actually agreed with the brunette. Whether or not she actually would've liked spending time with the young CSI.

Sara's chances were sunk before she even got an opportunity to try.

"I never should've…" Sara shakes her head darkly. "Before I even realized what Lindsey was doing…I let her get to me…what the hell is wrong with me…"

Sara's beating herself up, hating that she allowed herself to be goaded into all those disagreements with Lindsey when it was pretty much Lindsey's plan all along.

"I should've just walked away…or something," Sara reaches out, hitting the railing angrily with her fist. "I never should've just continued trying to reason with her. I was…arguing...with a 5 year old girl. I was _arguing_ with Catherine's daughter. What the hell kind of person am I?"

Hitting the railing again, I grimace at the solid thump her fist makes against the wood.

"Stop," I reach out, moving one hand from her sweater towards her arm.

Before I can reach it, however, she moves to do it again.

"Stop!"

This time I push her back, both hands returning immediately to grip her sweater as I push her forcefully away from the railing, out of reach of anything solid.

"Jesus, Sara, stop it. You're hurting yourself."

Head lowering, Sara swallows tightly, her hand reaching up towards her temples again - this time the trembling is even worse.

"I fucked it up, Kelly," Sara gets out.

Letting out a shaking breath of my own, I lower my own gaze, feeling some of my aggression leaving me – both of us seeming to slowly shift from anger to the much harder to stomach aftermath.

"She dislikes me because I'm dating her mom, but that's not the real issue," Sara reveals quietly after a few silent moments, voice heavy under the weight of her confession, the weight of perhaps what's bothering her most. "Even if she didn't know any of that, she still would've hated me because I don't know the first thing about how to talk to children. How to be around children. I had no clue what to say to her, how to talk to her. I was so lost, completely out of my depth."

Sara's voice is strained, nearly breaking under the emotion there.

"I was kidding myself thinking I'd be capable of doing this. Capable of being the type of person that beautiful little girl deserves."

"Hey," I call out. "Stop, Sara. You can't think like that."

"Why?" Sara shrugs, the gesture so defeated that it makes my heart clench. "You of all people know just how messed up my own childhood was. How the hell could I think I'd know anything about being around someone else's child? I don't know the first thing about children. Especially normal children with normal childhoods."

Sara's gaze is heavy, her shoulders now giving up all struggle against my grip, simply standing submissively in defeat.

"Lindsey deserves someone who knows how to be there for her, how to talk with her, play with her, teach her. She doesn't need someone like me who literally panicked when I was left alone with her, who completely froze up because I didn't know what to do. Someone who only managed to _argue_ with her."

Sara's body flinches, "Someone whose only examples of interactions with children are from the fucking foster care system."

Sara shakes her head darkly.

"Today showed me what I should've already known."

"Sara…"

When she looks up at me, her expression is so devastated, so shattered that it takes everything in me not to shatter myself.

"Please don't do what I think you're about to," I beg.

Sara's eyes impossibly only sadden further.

"Tell Catherine I'm sorry," she gets out, voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

"Sara-"

Before I can finish, Sara pushes away from me, my grip loosened just enough for her to stumble away from my grasp.

Stepping to the door, Sara offers me one last glance.

"Thanks for trying," she offers. "I'm sorry."

With that, she's gone.

* * *

**AN: Oh my, that didn't go so well. Thanks for reading. And, a shout out to jprsauve for unknowingly predicting in your review where this chapter was already fated to end up - you and I were on the same page. I seem to have a thing against too many consecutive chapters with happiness in my stories. Sorry. :/**


	42. Chapter 42

**AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Finally done with this chapter - bit long, but I've been told to stop apologizing for that. So, enjoy the long chapter that I'm in no way sorry for ;) **

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 42

_"It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before... to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."_

_-Anaïs Nin_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

I didn't go after her.

I don't think I would have even if I didn't have to watch over Lindsey.

When Kelly told me what happened, what Sara said to her before she left, all I kept focusing on was the fact that she left. _She left._

I thought Sara and I were in a better place than this. That even though her interactions with Lindsey didn't go well to say the least, that at least she and I were in a place that we were _talking _about our issues, not hiding from them. She'd opened up so much these last months, sharing with me her thoughts, her feelings, being as transparent as I could ever hope for someone as private as her to be.

But, then she walked out without so much as a word.

And no, I'm not counting the apology she gave to Kelly to pass along to me. If she was going to leave, I deserved to have that apology said face to face.

When I arrive at the lab this morning, I head straight to the locker room, angrily tossing my purse into the metal locker with a distinct thud.

"Hey there," I hear a semi amused greeting from down the aisle. "You alright?"

Seeing Nick's expression, a mix of both amused and concerned, I give him a brief nod. "Yeah, just had a bit of an off weekend is all."

"Okay," he draws out, still eyeing me. "Well, if you need anything…"

"Thanks," I give him a small smile back, appreciating this new team and the way they always seem to look out for one another. "I appreciate it."

Ending our brief conversation, I head back out into the hall, glancing at my watch to discover there's still about twenty minutes before assignments. Deciding I want to get the show on the road, I change direction towards Grissom's office.

Sure enough, he's sitting there, sorting through assignment slips and case files.

"Morning," I greet, trying to put a genuine looking smile on my face.

"Morning," he returns, looking at me with a raised brow. "Something I can help you with?"

"I was actually hoping to get my assignment now since I'm here."

His brow only raises further. Shaking his head, he pulls out a slip from under a stack of papers.

"Apparently I'm graced with some very eager CSIs tonight," he states, handing over the item. "You up for a solo?"

Taking the slip, I nod, wanting nothing more than a solo, actually. It's perfect. No forced small talk, no trying to pretend like I'm in a good mood. No Sara.

Speaking of, I take an educated guess.

"Sara already out at a scene?" I ask, referencing his previous comment.

He nods, "She came in last night, actually, hoping to help out on a big case that was called in."

Figures. When Sara runs away from something, her work is usually exactly where she heads. Perhaps the only place she's ever truly felt comfortable.

"You let her?" I question, trying not to care about the answer.

"I did," he answers, "but we had another scene this morning that I switched her onto."

"Busy shift apparently," I state, noting his comment and all the slips still across his wooden desk.

"Death coordinates with no one," he tells me. "Good luck on yours."

"Thanks," I offer as I make my way out the door, ready to dive into work myself. Sara's right about one thing, this job serves as a great distraction when you need it to.

* * *

"You the newbie?"

The question draws my gaze around over my shoulder. Eying the tall, balding man, I regard the police badge on his suit lapel.

"Been here for some months now, but the newest CSI I guess, yes," I answer, not really sure how I feel about this guy. "CSI Catherine Willows."

"Well, let's just hope you're as good as the rest of your team and Gil didn't just send us his rookie dud." Glancing around, he gestures to the remote location. "We aren't exactly the royalty of Vegas out here, people tend to save the big guns for the big names."

Wow. Okay then.

"I haven't been a rookie in over 5 years, sir," I inform him, keeping my gaze firm. "Just because I'm new to Vegas doesn't mean I'm new to being a CSI."

Looking around at the fields and livestock, taking in the singing birds and gentle breeze through the trees, I give him an even darker gaze. "And I'm from a rural town just like this one, so if you think for one minute I value anyone's worth over anyone else's just because of the address on their driver's license, then you are sorely mistaken."

I hold his gaze until he lets out a small smile, an acknowledging nod tipping his head.

"I think you and I will get along just fine, CSI Willows," he tells me sincerely. "Welcome to Meadow Valley."

Keeping my gaze firm a moment longer, I eventually break it, looking down to the crime scene roped off some feet in front of us.

"You want to tell me about our scene?" I ask, wanting to get this case going.

Wanting to fall into my work mode, filtering out all unnecessary, and bothersome, thoughts from my head. Focus solely on the mission of solving this case.

Not defending my job, my worth, my credentials. Not playing the events at the museum over and over through my head, feeling the hurt of learning that Sara walked out, not wondering how the hell I'm going to repair what happened with Sara.

Not wondering if I even want to.

"Vic is a 23 year old female, found around 5:15am…"

As my new sheriff friend goes on with the details of this case, I focus on every word. This is one of my few solos since I've been in Vegas. And, perhaps just like this man suggested, I feel like I still have something to prove.

* * *

It's nearly the end of shift before I get back to the lab, dropping my evidence off on my way to the locker room. I'm going to be late to pick up Lindsey if I'm not careful.

As I enter, however, I immediately draw up short.

Damn.

The occupant of the room glances over, stiffening as they see who it is that just entered.

"Catherine."

Sara straightens up, and I'm reminded of the same move she used to do during our early encounters. Standing to her full height, every sense on alert as if she needs to be on guard.

I barely acknowledge her, trying to keep my own gaze off her as I head to my locker that's a few away from her own.

She takes in my silence, herself not saying anything more for a few moments. Then, seeing me grabbing my coat, she knows her time is limited.

"Catherine, we should talk."

Grabbing my keys and slamming my locker shut, I turn to fully face her.

"Really?" I question with a dark laugh. "You want to talk. _Now _you want to talk?"

Her face is stoic, the ever hard to read Sidle mask. But, her eyes give her away. She's struggling to keep herself composed, to pretend she's as unruffled about this as she's projecting.

"I'm sorry," she offers, her voice quieting as she keeps her gaze on mine.

"No," I shake my head, taking an involuntary step back. "We're not doing this. Not here. Not now."

Shaking my head, I narrow my gaze. "You're right, we needed to talk. But, we needed to talk _before _you walked out on my daughter and I. Before you _left_ us there with Kelly as your messenger."

Sara's eyes flash with unreadable emotion, her body losing a slight amount of its rigidity, but her shoulders still pulled up tight and defensive around her.

"I fucked up," she acknowledges sincerely. "I know that. And I'm sorry."

I take another step back.

"I'm not doing this with you now," I repeat tightly. "I can't."

"When?" Sara questions as I get closer to the door. "When can you?"

I know she's right, I know we need to talk before this stretches on any further. There are issues that need to be addressed, big ones, and they need to be addressed before this drags out further. But, I believe I have the right to dictate the timing on this one.

After all, she's the one who turned down the opportunity to talk when we should have. That same day, before she walked out, and then maintained complete radio silence the entire rest of the weekend. These words with her now are the first ones she herself has attempted with me this whole time.

I'm not going to drop everything and listen the first moment _she's _willing to talk.

"I'll let you know when I'm ready to hear what you have to say," I tell her honestly. "Because right now I'm not. Right now I don't even want to look at you, to be honest. I need…"

I trail off, not knowing anymore what the hell it is I need.

"I'll tell you when I'm ready," I repeat instead.

She's silent, body stiffened once again as she takes the sting of my words. Clearing her throat, she keeps herself composed.

"Okay," she says.

Watching me a moment longer, she turns, focusing back on her locker as I complete my exit.

* * *

It takes me about three hours of tossing a turning to realize this isn't going to work. This punishment of sorts of making Sara wait is only punishing me. I haven't slept properly since the museum, and tonight is no different.

I know I'm not going to be able to rest and relax until this is resolved. One way or another.

I need to talk about this with her, we need to address it at least, before I'm going to be able to stop obsessing over it any time my mind is quiet.

Noting the time, I hesitate. It's almost 3:30 in the morning. It's decisively rude to be contacting someone at this hour, and it's likely unrealistic to think they'd even be awake. But, this is Sara Sidle.

_Willows (3:28am): You're right, we need to talk. I want to talk._

Sure enough, barely a minute goes by before my phone vibrates with a response.

_Sidle (3:29am): Okay. When?_

_Willows (3:30am): Now._

There's a bit of a longer pause this time, the brunette no doubt not expecting that answer.

_Sidle (3:33am): Where?_

_Willows (3:33am): Can you come to my place? _

_Sidle (3:34am): Be there in fifteen._

And with that, our phones go silent.

Tossing mine aside on the bed, I take a deep breath, adjusting to what I've just done. To what's about to transpire.

* * *

The gentle knock on the door has me startling slightly as I finish pulling my hair up into a semi presentable arrangement. Having quickly changed, I forwent any makeup or anything else. It's now nearly four in the morning, I'm going to look like it and that's just how it's going to be.

As I open the door, I pause a moment at Sara's own appearance. Unlike me, who threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to replace my pjs, Sara is still fully dressed in the same clothes she was wearing at work. Light jeans, black long sleeve shirt, CSI vest still zipped up snugly, likely to act against the chilly breeze I feel across my face through the open door. Knowing her, she didn't bring a coat to work.

"You want to come in?" I ask, not knowing where the best place to do this is.

"Wherever you want," Sara tells me, expression back to neutral.

"Let's do this inside," I state, the chilly breeze deterring me from wanting to stay out on the porch in the cold at this hour.

Backing up, I let her inside, noting how she stays by the door.

It's a stark contrast to how we'd been just days before, when she'd come over after shift when Lindsey was asleep. When we'd share coffee, movies. Share the small couch as we'd slept. The brunette moving around my home with relative ease, feeling comfortable in this space. Now, she's hesitant to even be in the same room with me.

"You can come in from the foyer," I state, my own tone direct.

"I, uh," Sara gestures down to her hip. "I have my weapon on me, I can't leave it in the car…but I don't want to have it in the house…Lindsey…"

"Were you still at work?" I ask, though the answer is now obvious. You could be at home without having changed from your work clothes, but you wouldn't bring your service weapon back out with you.

She nods, not saying anything further.

"Alright," I let out a breath. "Give it to me, I'll lock it away with mine."

She watches me a moment before reaching down and removing her gun. Checking that the safety is on, she holds it out to me.

Taking it, I disappear into my room, placing it into the safe I had installed on the top shelf of my closet. Closing it and being sure it's locked, I reenter the house.

"You may as well get comfortable," I tell her, noting her position still near the doorway.

Knowing this is it, that this is happening, Sara takes a steadying breath and moves to join me in the living room. But, she still doesn't sit.

Deciding to remain standing myself, I feel my arms crossing themselves over my chest.

"What the hell happened, Sara?" I ask her, diving into the heart of the matter.

There's no point in dancing around this, not at this point, not at this time of the night. We're here for one reason and we need to accept that.

"I'm sorry," she says to me, apologizing with heavy eyes. "I'm so sorry, Catherine."

"Stop apologizing," I tell her tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry and start telling me what the hell happened."

Sara turns, pacing slightly along my rug as she runs a hand through her dark hair.

"Lindsey knew we were dating," she says, confirming what Kelly had told me. "She clearly didn't like the idea, clearly didn't like me."

Sara keeps up her pacing, moving in tight lines, back and forth, back and forth.

"She and I…argued…over everything," Sara confesses, tone dark with self-inflicted anger. "I was arguing with a 5 year old child, with your daughter. I've never been so…"

Sara paces, shaking her head, searching for the words.

Stopping, she turns to me, meeting my eyes.

"I've never been so ashamed."

I know my daughter, and I know she likes to try to rile people. Hell, she does it to me often enough when she's trying to get her way. She's young, but she's smart enough to know what buttons to push.

"Why did you leave?" I question directly, wanting to get to the part that truly has me stuck.

Sara's eyes grow darker, her expression heavier.

"I had no clue how to act around her, Catherine," she tells me, this confession quieter, more shameful to the tall brunette. "I realized I had no clue about being around children, talking with them."

She shakes her head, letting out a tight, defeated breath. "No clue how to be the person you and Lindsey deserve me to be for her."

I raise my chin at this, at her words. "And what person is that?" I question. "What person are you presuming I want you to be for us?"

Sara accepts the challenging tone to my words, not backing down herself.

"Someone who knows how to help raise a child, how to help a child feel loved, supported, cared for." She keeps her gaze steady, "Someone who is more interactive then a damn wall who didn't know the first thing to say or do. Besides of coarse getting goaded into an argument with someone in kindergarten."

When I stay silent, Sara shakes her head.

"I thought I'd just know what to do, that it's something that would just come naturally to me as a woman or some bullshit theory like that," she states darkly, clearly upset with herself. "I was an idiot thinking someone like me would know the first thing about being around children."

I watch her, my expression still impassive.

"Someone like you?" I pose to the now silent room.

She goes quiet at this, eyes lowering to the coffee table between us.

"Someone like me," she confirms, eyes lifting back up to mine.

"Meaning?" I push, knowing we need to lay all our cards on the table if we're ever going to have any hopes of working through this. We can't keep things to ourselves, keep things buried, hoping they magically go away once they're far enough out of sight.

"Someone from the fucking foster care system," she says tightly, honoring my probing questions. "Someone whose examples of childhood interactions were mostly abusive, hateful, neglectful, or some combination thereof."

Her gaze is solid, her body language clearly telling me she's simply stating facts, that she's not looking for comfort or rebuttals. So, I don't offer her any.

"And so you just left?" I question. "You realized this was too much for you, me having a child, and you just left."

"I…" Sara thinks her thoughts through, working out how to state them. "I left because I wasn't good enough, Catherine. Not for you, not for her."

The room falls silent, no sounds breaking through the heavy air. When I step closer, closing some of the distance between us, Sara's head lifts warily, watching me as I approach. When I stop, I leave enough room between us to give me and her some space. But, not a lot of it.

"Do you think I had an instruction manual when Lindsey was born?"

Sara stays quiet, not answering what is essentially a rhetorical question.

"Do you know where I was when I had her?" I ask.

When she again stays silent, I continue. "I was in Vegas, working as a stripper. I was a former drug addict, using coke and alcohol to numb the fact that I was making money whoring myself out to an industry that cared absolutely nothing about me. To a man who cared even less. I was in a destructive, abusive relationship, carrying a child with a man I feared more than loved."

Sara's eyes work to stay on mine, to give me the respect I deserve by looking me in the eye.

"I didn't know the first thing about raising a child, my own examples being less than stellar." I tighten my jaw, trying to keep my voice quiet for the sake of Lindsey sleeping upstairs. "But you know what, Sara, I figured it out. I found myself accepting that Linds was simply too damn important for me to throw in the white flag, to not fight like hell to figure it out. For her sake. And so I did."

I shake my head, laughing lowly.

"I'm still far from the best parent on this planet, Lord knows. I've messed up along the way, sometimes in huge ways. But, the point is, I keep trying, keep working to be better, do better. Because she deserved that of me."

Sara's own jaw tightens, her head finally lowering as she angles it to the side.

"I wasn't disappointed with you that Lindsey didn't like you, that you guys got off to a rough start." I step closer, now invading her space. "I would never hold that against you."

The woman before me stands eerily still, taking in each of my words as her breathing is shaky.

"The only time I was disappointed in you, Sara, was when you walked out. When you gave up and walked out on us without a word."

She doesn't say anything, her body stiff and stoic under the weight of what I'm saying.

"Of everything you've done for me and my family, you've already been more of a parent, cared more for my daughter, than her own father ever did." I swallow tightly, forcing myself to get everything out while we're doing this, not wanting hidden resentments or regrets regarding words I didn't say when I had the chance. "The only time you've ever disappointed me, was when you did exactly what Eddie did when things got tough. When you walked out."

At this, Sara stiffens, no doubt struggling under the heavy blows I've just dealt her. But, I keep reminding myself, I need to be honest with her about how I feel.

"It makes me worry that you'd do it again. If we were a formal couple and you were in our lives, that when something happens, like it inevitably will, that you're the type to walk out and leave instead of facing it. To go quiet for an entire weekend, disappearing and shutting yourself off. Instead of working through it with me, together, as a couple."

This, of all things is the only hesitation I have regarding Sara Sidle. Not her dark past, not her secrets, not her introverted personality. None of it scares me like her walking out of that museum did. I can't be with someone if I'm worried their going to bail out and pull the escape lever if things take a turn. I can't have that worry looming over me, afraid to misstep or upset her, for fear that she'll leave.

"Do you know what Lindsey told me when we got home?"

Sara swallows, still struggling under everything I've just laid on her, now clearly thrown by the change in topic, the unexpected question. She doesn't answer, her eyes still to the side of me.

"We talked a lot about the fact she knew we were dating, about why she didn't like it, what was bothering her. We worked through it, Sara. And, what was bothering her had nothing to do with you. She thought me dating someone meant that I'd spend less time with her, be away from her more often than I already am for work. It wasn't about you, Sara."

Sara is so quiet, so still, her body tense enough that I see her hands working tightly into fists.

"Once we talked it out, and I told her absolutely none of her fears would happen, she told me she was glad that the person I was dating was you."

At this, Sara's eyes jerk to mine in confusion, finally meeting my gaze.

"She told me you were the only adult she's ever met that didn't agree with her about everything. That didn't placate her when she was wrong just for the sake of being nice."

I watch Sara's eyes as they turn unsure, questioning what I'm telling her, what she's hearing.

"She said you were honest with her, and that she felt like she wasn't just a kid to you. She liked learning your way of looking at things, the real way the universe works, not the way teachers dumb it down."

Sara's silent, still watching me, staring at me like I've grown multiple heads from my shoulders.

"I…we…" she gets out, voice barely a whisper. "We fought, the entire time…"

I shrug, "Have you ever met another adult who openly argues with a 5 year old?" Watching her, I angle my head. "You were everything to her an adult has never been. And, everything my daughter respects in her limited 5 year old way. She's young, but she's old enough to acknowledge adults talking down to her, belittling her ability to understand the world around her. You were probably the first person to contradict her and share with her your opposing views."

I watch Sara closely, trying to gauge her, "My daughter's a lot like me, Sara, in so many ways. She likes bullshit and phoniness just as little as I do."

"She…" Sara shakes her head. "She really didn't hate me?"

"She hated me dating someone until we talked it through. She never hated _you_, Sara. Quite the opposite."

I shake my head, feeling the emotions rising back up within me.

"Perhaps you would have known that if you'd bothered to stick around. To deal with the situation with me as a couple, not walking out because things didn't go the way you expected them to."

Her head lowers again, this time looking just as defeated and exhausted as I feel myself.

"The only thing about you that scares me is this tendency you have to run, to avoid, to hide away when things get personal for you." I keep my voice steady. "You did it all during Gabe's case, you did it when you got hurt and tried to hide it, you did it in the museum. I can't have that around my daughter. I need to know if we're going to do this, that you're going to be there. No matter if things happen, if we fight, if times turn tough. I need to know you're not just going to walk out and close yourself off."

"I thought I…" Sara struggles through, her voice heavy. "I thought I was doing the right thing, leaving so that…"

"So that what, Sara?"

The private woman lifts her eyes to mine, showing me the sincerity behind them. "So you wouldn't have to go through the trouble of asking me to leave yourself."

"You thought…" my eyes go wide. "You thought I'd break up with you, because of what happened with Lindsey?"

Sara's words ring through me, the genuine fear and expectations she had regarding my intentions. She thought she had one shot at hitting it off with Lindsey, that she upset my daughter and that was the end of it. The end of her and the end of us.

"Jesus, Sara," I state, eyes still wide in disbelief. "You're not some puppy I brought home from the pound on a trial basis. Ready to be handed back the second you pee on the rug or mess something up."

I shake my head, trying to get her to look at me.

"And, to be honest, I'm a little hurt that you think of me that way."

I'm sure Sara's had enough people in her life who treated her exactly like that. Foster homes who turned her back out onto the street the second things got hard, the second she did something wrong. But, she needs to stop thinking I'm anything like those people, anything like what she's experienced in the past.

"I'm in this for the long run," I tell her honestly, openly. "I'm in this and willing to work through whatever problems come up so long as we are a couple. The only way I'll ever walk out on you, or ask you to leave, is if we're mutually unhappy. If something happens that we someday aren't desiring to be together, mutually deciding to end things between us."

I step forward, taking her hand in mine, gently unclenching her fist to thread our fingers together.

"I'm not planning to walk out on you any time soon," I state. "And I want you to promise me that you aren't either. That what happened at the museum with you leaving doesn't _ever_ happen again."

Sara's eyes are on mine, her hazel gaze holding so much beneath it.

"I promise, Catherine."

She shakes her head.

"I was an idiot, about so much, and I'm so sorry."

My free hand finds its way up, trailing along her jaw line before gently tracing along her lips, her body drawing still the moment my fingers make contact.

"Going forward you talk to me, you stop apologizing to me and you simply talk to me, Sara. You stop convincing yourself you're not good enough or that I will change my mind about how I feel about you. Stop telling yourself this is too good to be true, that this won't work out, that I'll turn my back on you if times get tough. Stop getting in your own way, and..."

I hesitate, my voice catching in my throat at the words lingering there. The magnitude of them.

"And let yourself be loved."

Eyes heavy, Sara's search mine, the greens more prominent in the low light, flickering back and forth between my own.

"I love you, Sara," I confess fully, the words and the meaning clear, despite my voice being a mere whisper as I get the words out from my tight throat. "I've fallen so deeply in love with you."

It's moments, ages, each passing by with heavy ticks of the clock, the hard beets echoing the ones in my chest.

"But can you trust me enough?" I ask her, my eyes now the ones searching hers. "Can you trust me enough to let me love you?"

In all our time together, Sara's been open about wanting to fight for a relationship with me, wanting to pursue something and give us a try. But, throughout, every time we start to get close, start to make progress, Sara's doubts take over. Just like when she thinks because of the museum I'll break up with her, when she thinks because she was in a bad place with Kelly that I'd be upset with her, when she thinks because her body is scarred that I'll be disappointed or disgusted by her. When she seems to think I'll someday realize who I'm with and reconsider, that she's not worthy enough for me.

She is so wrong, so mistaken. She has no idea how worthy, how above worthy, she is. How it's perhaps me, not her, who is the unworthy one.

As I watch Sara's haunted eyes, the moisture glistening along their surfaces, I know I've reached the source of this all. The source of Sara's deepest fears, the ones she's so carefully tucked away under her brave exterior. For all her strength, courage, dedication to fighting for us to have a chance, I think deep down she never expected it to work out.

Under it all, she's afraid of this. Of love. Of trusting that it's real, genuine, and lasting. That it can be happening, and that it can be happening to her.

After all, everything in her life has taught her otherwise.

It's why she's quick to leave, to shut down and shut herself off. To leave others before they have a chance to leave her.

For all her sacrifices to me and my family, literally endangering her life multiple times, her body still holding the scars of those decisions, those actions, this would be the hardest sacrifice of all. To submit to me enough to give me not only her body, but her heart. The heart that has more walls and guards than I've ever seen.

To submit to me enough to trust this, trust me, with all of her. Completely.

That, ultimately, is Sara's struggle. Has been since we met.

"I..."

Sara swallows, eyes glistening as she watches me, breathing shaky as they lower to the floor. It's a painfully long set of shaky breaths before she finally lifts them back up.

"I trust you," she gets out, the silence of the night allowing me to hear her confession. "I'm yours, Catherine."

Lowering her head, she holds tightly to my hand still in hers.

"All of me," she promises. "It's yours."

Using my hand still hovering near her lips, I tilt her chin up, matching our gazes.

I see her, truly see her, all of her. Everything ever hidden, ever in shadow, is now in front of me.

Leaning in, our lips meet, the kiss perhaps our gentlest that we've ever shared, but it's also the most meaningful. The most passionate because it's raw, it's without boundaries, without walls, without barriers.

I know in this moment that I'm ready. That I'm ready to commit to Sara, to break down my own self imposed boundaries that I placed between us. For Sara, her deepest hesitations were always emotional - trust, love, openness. For me, the emotional was never an issue. It was the physical, the taking of that step to finally fully being together as a couple, being physically intimate with one other.

I think part of me needed to see Sara's own boundaries all finally lifted, to have everything laid bare and both of us without any hesitations, any last walls between us, before I myself could trust this relationship as something headed towards long term. Not a fling, not giving into lustful desires, but love. True, exposed, honest love.

Sara's given me that final requirement I needed of her, placing her defenses down before me, handing them over and laying them at my feet. Trusting me with them, trusting me with herself.

It's in turn given me everything I need to trust Sara, trust this relationship.

I'm ready.

I know that it's not here, now, with my daughter sleeping above us that this final step will take place, but that doesn't matter. The knowledge that it will happen, that I'm ready and willing for it to happen, is the most important piece. When it happens is yet to be determined, but it _will _happen. And, that's enough. That's all I needed for that burden, that struggle, to finally be lifted from my shoulders.

Pushing forward, I deepen the kiss, my emotions mixing with her own.

I'm finally ready.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	43. Chapter 43

**AN: Sorry for the delay in updates, life got a bit crazy there for awhile. Thanks SO much as always to those reviewing, your comments always put a smile on my face. You guys really do keep the inspiration going. Hope everyone is doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 43

_"And all of my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling_  
_All this heaven never could describe such a feeling..._  
_So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before."_

_-Florence and the Machine, "All This And Heaven Too"_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"This is sooooo amazing!"

Sara lets a small smile peek through her otherwise serious expression, "It's not that amazing. Was quite easy, really."

Lindsey's eyes are still wide, staring at the solar system displayed before them. She shakes her head, "No way. Mom one time spent _hours_ trying to set this up, you did it in like five minutes."

Sara's eyes shift to mine, her cheeks reddening, "Oh…"

Sheepishly, she swallows, "Sorry. I can see why your mom had trouble though…it is a bit hard now that you mention…"

"Oh don't bother, Sar," I cut her off with a laugh. "You're a space wizard, I'm not. No hurt feelings."

"It…"

Sara looks torn, like she's still debating whether she can talk her way out of this particular moment. Then, apparently she gives up.

"Sorry," she offers instead, cheeks still pink as she reaches out to squeeze my hand in hers.

Giving her a chaste peck on the lips, both our eyes go to Lindsey as she barely seems to care about the kiss, simply getting back to playing with her new favorite toy.

Smiling, Sara steps back, letting Lindsey have her fun, placing herself next to me on the couch. Sitting closely, our hands resume their positions of finding each other, Sara's thumb tracing along my knuckles.

"Thanks for having me over," she says, eyes watching Lindsey's youthful fingers turn and twirl the planets around each other. "I really appreciate this."

"I thought you and Lindsey deserved a drama free afternoon together."

And, drama free is exactly what it's been. Lindsey's qualms about me being in a relationship, or at least the Sara part of it, have been lifted. My daughter instead lighting up when Sara revealed that she loves the stars and planets just as much as Lindsey does. My daughter wasted no time grabbing the science kit she was given for her birthday, the one that I'd indeed spent hours trying to set up for her without much success.

Apparently Sara's model building skills are far superior to my own. I'd barely gotten two planets attached to the central bracing device when it all descended into hell.

Now, the model looks nothing but celestial.

"Sara!" Lindsey calls excitedly, "Look what I can do with the moons if they come near each other!"

Smiling, Sara gives my hand a squeeze before she leaves the couch, sitting herself back down on the floor next to Lindsey.

"You know what that's called?" Sara asks, watching the moons intersect in front of Saturn. "When the moons line up with each other?"

Lindsey shakes her head, eyes wide. "That's a real thing? They really do that in real space?"

Sara smiles wide, her expression lighter than I've seen it in a long time. "Yes, it's a very real thing…"

Sara goes on, explaining to Lindsey eclipses and orbits, keeping it at a level that a 5 year old will understand, but not underestimating my daughter's ability to keep up. In fact, Lindsey's eager and endless questions exemplify just how much she's following right along.

Sara's a great teacher, and my daughter is more than eager to learn more about one of her favorite subjects. These two are really a sight when they're together, and I'm still not sure which is the bigger nerd.

Smiling, I watch them play together, my own presence all but forgotten as they explore the universe together. Hearing Sara laugh, my smile grows even wider at the rare sound. Something tells me as good as Sara is for Lindsey, that Lindsey is just as good for Sara. They both in different ways have a lot to learn, a lot to enjoy, about being with the other. And, from the looks of things, they're more than thrilled to finally do so.

* * *

"How do you do it?" Sara questions, letting out a long sigh as she drops herself down into one of my kitchen chairs. "That girl is endless energy."

Smiling, I shake my head, "You have no idea."

"You're a saint," Sara settles on concluding. "You're an amazing mother, and an absolute saint."

Laughing lightly, I push my coffee over towards Sara, my companion taking a grateful sip.

"How many stories did she make you read?" I question, smiling at the fact that Lindsey insisted that Sara be the one to put her to bed. After their long day together, my daughter still didn't want to ever leave Sara's side even to go to bed.

Before I could step in, trying to save Sara from the sometimes painful bedtime routine, she easily agreed, not even hesitating. Seeing Lindsey's grogginess, Sara barely even paused, simply reaching down and picking my daughter up to place her atop her hip. Carrying Linds up the stairs, my daughter was already nearly falling asleep on Sara's shoulder before they even made it to her room. But, the prospect of her nighttime story being read by Sara quickly roused her, and I left them to have their privacy when Lindsey had picked out their story for the night.

But, judging by the time between then and when Sara finally made her way back downstairs, I have a good feeling that wasn't the _only_ story Lindsey convinced Sara to read to her.

"I think there were three," Sara mumbles, eyes closing as she leans her head back. "Maybe four. It's all a haze."

Laughing, I swat her arm, taking my coffee back as I see her smile.

"You think you have enough energy left in you to watch a movie or something?" I pose, watching the brunette's eyes open and meet with mine.

"Hmm," she pretends to consider this. "Depends on the movie."

"Smartass."

Smiling, Sara rouses herself, sitting to her full height as she steals another swallow of my coffee. Standing, she holds her hand out, leading the way to the living room.

Once there, it takes us only a few minutes to agree on a movie, an independent film we've both wanted to see. Getting settled on the couch, we fall into our familiar position, me leaning back into Sara, my head resting on her shoulder while her arms wrap around my hips to hold me close.

It's safe, secure, and probably my favorite place in the world to be.

As the movie is coming to a close, I note that Sara is still fully awake. And, if anything, she seems almost on alert, her body somewhat stiff and tense beneath me. Usually, after about the first couple minutes she relaxes, holding me close and sometimes, after a really hard couple shifts, even starting to drift off into some much needed sleep.

But, not tonight. Though I can tell she's tired, she is fully awake.

"You okay?" I ask quietly, eyes still on the movie.

"Hmm?" she questions, apparently pulled from her own thoughts. "Yeah, I'm good."

"I can't believe they killed off that pilot."

Sara hums her agreement.

And, in that moment, I know for a fact she's distracted. This movie doesn't even have a pilot, let alone one that was just killed off. Her mind is clearly elsewhere, and it worries me.

Pausing the movie, I turn in her arms, fully facing her.

"What's wrong?" I ask, gaze searching her own tense features.

Perhaps giving up any temptations of trying to deny it, Sara instead lets out a breath. I can feel the trembling in the exhale where my shoulder still rests along her chest.

"I…"

She pauses, drawing herself another deep breath, like she's trying to steady herself.

"I wanted…" she trails off, eyes on mine before they move away.

"Talk to me, Sara."

Sara looks back over, her eyes searching mine as she seems to come to an internal decision.

"I wanted you to know…" she tries again, reaching out and taking my hand in hers. "I wanted you to know that I love you."

Her eyes shift between mine, watching my expression nervously.

"You've said it to me and alluded to it with me before, but I've never said it back. I want you to know that I feel the same way, Catherine. I've fallen for you, so deeply."

These words are not what I expected, so much not what I expected that it takes my mind a moment to comprehend them. Then, my mind, and my heart, seem to jolt at the realization of what Sara just said.

"I'm not good at saying those certain words," Sara confesses. "I usually avoid them as much as possible, really. But, I didn't want you to think I didn't feel them."

I had noticed Sara's lack of using those three particular words, but I also know Sara. The type of person that she is, the past that she's had, I can imagine why those three words aren't the easiest for her to say.

"Thank you," I tell her sincerely, appreciating beyond my own words how much this moment means to me, how deeply this has touched me. "You show me with your actions how you feel," I assure her. "But I won't deny that it's so damn good to hear you say the words aloud."

Smiling slightly, Sara looks like her body loses some of her nervousness, a bit of the edge leaving her expression.

"I'll try to use them more often," she promises. "But don't ever doubt how I feel if sometimes I fail to do so."

"I understand," I tell her. And I do.

Sara's past was a horror show, and she's been so good at overcoming it, moving past it. But, occasionally, there are some tells that give her away. This was one of them. And, I'm so proud of her for this moment, this honesty.

"I love you, too," I tell her sincerely, leaning in to kiss her deeply. "So much."

Holding each other close, we both enjoy the time together.

The movie never gets unpaused.

* * *

Opening my eyes, I take a long, deep breath, stretching out as I note the time on the clock.

Turning slightly, I look at the body beneath mine, smiling as I take in the sight.

Sara's still asleep, which is a rarity in its own. Usually I find her awake when I open my eyes in the morning, holding me and gently running her fingers through my hair. But, this time she's out, her head angled down towards my shoulder, her breathing deep and even.

She looks relaxed, and it's a damn good look on her.

Running my own fingers across her temple, I tuck some wayward brunette locks behind her ear. When she doesn't stir, I pull the blanket up tighter around us, taking the rare opportunity to be the one to hold her instead of the other way around.

It's a good half hour before I finally hear Sara's breathing hitch, her body rousing itself with a slight jerk. Eyes flicking to mine, she takes in the fact that I'm awake already.

"Hey," she gets out, voice scratchy from sleep.

"Hey," I smile back, placing a gentle kiss into her hair. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Sara smiles, stretching slightly as she runs her fingers up and down my arm. "You been awake long?"

"Nope," I assure her. "About thirty minutes."

Sara takes this in, nodding as she glances at the time on the clock. "Sorry."

"Why in God's name are you apologizing?" I laugh. "You needed sleep. Still need sleep."

Sara doesn't refute this, but she doesn't look all that concerned either. "I can sleep when I'm dead."

"Well, you're extra morbid this morning," I smile, playfully tugging on the hem of her shirt.

Snorting, Sara simply holds me close, both of us relaxing into the early hour, hearing the birds and other creatures outside just starting to wake up themselves.

"How long before we have to get ready for the day?" Sara poses.

"At least another hour."

"Good," she mutters, readjusting herself slightly as she wraps her arms tighter around me, head coming to rest atop my own.

Breathing in her scent, I melt into her embrace, my eyes closing as my body experiences the meaning of contentment.

* * *

"Ladies," Gil lifts his eyes towards Sara and mine. "A word."

Everyone else files out of the break room with their assignment slips in hand, casting us a brief glance as they shut the door behind them.

Sara looks nervous, tensely lifting herself from her seat to stand near the coffee.

Gil remains seated, watching us with a pensive expression.

"Is there something that you two would like to talk about?" he questions, expression hard to read.

Sara remains quiet, her eyes silently shifting to mine. She's good, her stoic expression giving nothing away as she wordlessly defers to me regarding this situation. This situation I think we both knew was coming.

"What do you mean?" I ask, needing clear evidence as to what Gil is alluding to. I'm not about to out us to our boss if he's referring to something else.

"The two of you," he poses, eyes watching us closely. "It's like some shifts you're working eagerly together, making one hell of a team. Then others it's like your avoiding each other, glaring at the back of each other's heads during assignments."

He folds his hands across the surface of the table.

"I've been trying to be careful in when I assign you two to cases together, but it's honestly been getting very hard to predict your alternating attitudes towards one another. I just want to know if there's something I should be worried about."

Oh. So this isn't 'the talk.' It's more of an 'I can't tell when the two of you hate each other and when you don't' talk. But, as my eyes meet Sara's, I think we both know the actual talk is one that we need to be having with Gil. And, apparently now is a good a time as any. While I wasn't planning to start my morning this way, it looks like things are about to change.

"Actually," I pose, standing and placing myself closer to Sara. "We had something we wanted to talk to you about."

Gil's brow raises, his curious expression moving between the both of us.

"We have indeed been a bit hot and cold," I start. "Trying to figure ourselves out after everything that's happened. But, we've also been trying to figure ourselves out in another way."

I hesitate, finding it much harder than I expected to discuss this. While Gil and I are friends and I knew this would be uncomfortable, with him sitting right here and looking at me expectantly, I'm finding it damn near impossible.

Starting to panic, I feel my mouth go dry as the words simply won't come.

Before I can do anything, I feel Sara's presence stepping up beside me, the brunette laying a calming hand on my back. Always able to read me and noting my distress, Sara stands strong and firm beside me.

"Catherine and I are together, Gil," she states evenly, her own voice strong as she takes this burden from me.

Grissom looks between us, slowly standing as he tilts his head.

"Together?" he questions slowly, eyes narrowing as he tries to understand what Sara's saying.

"Together," Sara repeats. Then, she reaches down, taking my hand in hers and giving it a strong squeeze. "Together."

I see the moment Gil finally gets it, his eyes widening as he now appears to be the one whom words are failing.

"How…" he finally struggles to voice. "When?"

"Recently," Sara states. "Been a long journey trying to figure everything out, but recently."

He takes this in, mind still trying to adjust to what we're telling him.

"Does anyone else know?" he questions, perhaps aware that he isn't usually the quickest to catch on to such things.

"No," Sara assures him. "We wanted to speak with you before the others. For obvious reasons. Catherine and I know that this poses some…complications."

Gil nods, "It does."

Hand tightening on mine, Sara holds it firmly, giving me unspoken support as we wait for Gil's ultimate response. We know this is a problem, that workplace relationships are discouraged for a myriad of reasons. Particularly in a job such as this where unbiased and neutral relationships are expected due to the sensitive nature of what we do, of what we represent to our victims, to the justice system. Investigators in relationships with one another pose a complication, both in court and out.

"I think you know that you can no longer be Sara's direct supervisor, Catherine," Gil states, working through this aloud. "Can't perform any of her evaluations or sign off on any of her cases."

I nod, having expected as such.

"Ecklie will be less than pleased."

Sara tenses, and I hold her hand firmly.

"But," Gil breathes out, "I'm not Ecklie."

Looking us over, he shakes his head. "I never would have thought. The two of you of all people on this team."

Smiling slightly, he lets out a breath.

"I'm happy for you both."

And, I can see in his expression that he's being honest, that he really is happy for the two of us. A bit thrown, but happy.

"I will do my part to make this a non-issue with the higher ups," he promises. "I think it goes without saying that there will be no tolerance of your relationship interfering with your work. But, the two of you are the most dedicated and professional CSIs I've ever had the pleasure of working with, so I think I don't need to expand on that threat. We will have to make some assignment and organizational adjustments, but we'll do what we have to to make it work."

"Thank you," I tell him sincerely, finally finding my voice, letting out a shaky breath. "It really means a lot to have your support."

"The two of you have each always had my back," he states with a smile. "It's the least I can do in return."

Then, some of the tension leaving him as the shock seems to finally wear off, he smiles down at our still joined hands.

"I really am happy for you," he tells us. "I couldn't think of two people who I'd want more to see happy. And, the fact that the two of you found that happiness together…"

He shakes his head, "I support you both and wish you all the best."

* * *

"Holy shit that was uncomfortable."

Sara laughs lightly, both of us now alone in the break room after Gil left.

"Not the way I'd prefer starting my shift," Sara agrees. "But I guess in some ways feels good to have that conversation over with."

"Very," I nod. "Makes me also very happy to finally feel like we're a couple. Not just to ourselves, but to the world."

Sara smiles, leaning in to give me a gentle kiss.

"I couldn't be more honored to get to officially call you my girlfriend," she says, leaning back to smile down at me.

"Same," I share with her, unable to help my own smile that seems to be permanently on my lips.

Leaning in for another kiss, I hold her close.

"Now we just have to worry about telling the guys," Sara gets out.

Stiffening, I let out a startled snort.

"Maybe not."

Turning in my arms, Sara looks over her shoulder to see what I'm looking at.

There, on the other side of the door, are two very red faced CSIs. Seeing us noticing them, Nick and Greg immediately try to pretend like they aren't looking, failing miserably.

Nick tries to hide a blush, scurrying away. Greg, blushing just as red, offers us a wide grin and a thumbs up before following after his colleague.

"Oh God," Sara moans, burying her head on my shoulder. "Please tell me we didn't just get caught making out by Greg and Nick."

Laughing, I shake my head.

"I promised our relationship would be based on honesty," I tell her. "So I'm afraid I can't do that."

Groaning, Sara lets out a curse. "I'll never live this down."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	44. Chapter 44

**AN: Ahhhhhh. No, I am not dead. No, I have not been abducted by aliens. I've just been a horrible fanfiction writer who got preempted by life shenanigans that all seemed to hit at once (as they always seem to do). My sincerest apologies for the delay in updates - thank you so much to those still following this story, and to those still taking the time to review. It's probably cliche, but your comments really do help keep the motivation to write alive when the world is otherwise going to chaos around me. **

**Hope you are all doing well.**

**Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 44

"A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave."

-Mahatma Gandhi

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"Damnit!"

The words echo through the metallic hallway, bouncing off the walls next to my pager as it clatters to a stop along the cold linoleum.

"Destroying government property again?"

The voice startles me, turning to see Sara leaning against the wall, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her jeans.

"How long have you been there?" I question, rubbing my temples as I try like hell to calm myself down. To look more composed than I am.

Straightening up, Sara approaches me slowly. Then, hesitating only slightly, she steps into my personal space. It's only a moment before I feel her arms around me, gently but firmly holding me.

It only takes a few seconds for me to lose my rigidity, to all but surrender to her strong hold as I feel my own arms wrapping around her in return. Clinging to her, it feels like she's perhaps the only thing holding me together, tethering me to the ground, to sanity.

Laying my forehead against her shoulder, I let out a shuddering breath, fists clenching at the material of her shirt.

"My vic was alive when…when they…" I trail off, voice shaky as I try to contain the nausea rising in my throat. "They tortured…"

Holding me closer, Sara's hand runs through my hair, fingers moving slowly, gently.

"What's the purpose?" I question, voicing the fears I've always held buried within me regarding this job, hovering in the deep dark places I rarely have the courage to visit. "What's the point if we're only the cleanup crew? When we're by definition already too late to save our victims?"

Sara is solid and sturdy beneath me, her voice as steady as she is.

"We save the victims, Catherine," she says quietly. "The _future_ victims. We save those people, those families, from going through what that girl's family is going through right now."

"But it's too late for her. No one can save _her._"

"Yes," Sara agrees, not trying to placate me or give false platitudes. "But we make it count for something. We make it serve a purpose. We…"

Sara takes in a deep breath, the steady flow of her breathing echoing through my ear.

"We try to bring them justice. Bring them closure and purpose."

The walls are silent around us, the chill of the morgue hallway seeping through what feels like every crack in my soul.

"Do you really believe that?"

Sara is quiet for a long time. Then, finally, she answers.

"I have to," she gets out. "I have to or else this is all futile. And...and I'm not sure I could handle that."

Holding her tighter, I breathe in deeply, feeling her warmth, taking in her scent. Her living, breathing, steady body against me.

It's this, the living, who we are fighting for. Bringing the dead justice so that we can protect the living, keeping them from entering these halls, these eternal endings.

Our victims paying the ultimate sacrifice, dying at the hands of demons still at large. Exposing them for the monsters they are. It's our job to make sure their sacrifice isn't in vain, that the demons and monsters are then stopped before they can cut more lives tragically short, bring more people to our autopsy tables.

"Thank you," I rest my head against Sara's chest.

Sara has come to be a trusted steadying presence to me, and I'm grateful that this time is no different. She somehow reads me perfectly, offering me answers to questions I haven't even asked, comforting deep fears I sometimes haven't even voiced.

Holding me, Sara doesn't respond, simply keeping me in her protective embrace until I'm ready to face the rest of this day.

* * *

"You waited?"

Sara glances up, placing her pen down.

"Of course," she says without pause. "How'd it go?"

I sigh, letting out an exhausted breath as I set myself down on the stool across from her.

"We got him."

Sara's mouth pulls up into a gentle smile. Reaching out, she takes my hand in hers, giving it a squeeze.

"Great work," she tells me, knowing how hard it is to get a case closed this quickly. To identify the perp and have him brought in within the same shift. Or, close to the same shift, I amend, glancing at the clock on the wall that tells me we're already hours past shift change.

This monster motivated me, angered me, disgusted me. I wanted him off the streets, not willing to give him the chance to subject more young women to that awful fate.

"You ready to go?" I ask, wanting to get out of here, to put this place, this case behind me.

Nodding, Sara packs up her notes, separating from me to lock everything away. Looking over, she seems to work her way through something.

"You want to go home?" she asks, offering me a ride. "Or," she again assesses my expression. "Somewhere else?"

I raise a brow. "Did you have somewhere particular in mind, Sidle?"

Sara hesitates a moment, then stands tall. "There's a place I go sometimes, after a hard shift. If you wanted…I could take you there…"

I smile, still amazed every time Sara opens up to me, trusting me enough to let a little bit more of herself out, sharing another glimpse through her walls. "That sounds perfect, Sara. I'd be honored."

"Lindsey?" Sara questions, concerned she's keeping me from my daughter.

"With Kelly," I assure her. "I knew I'd be working late so she's spending the night with Kel."

Sara nods, holding the door open for me as we make our way out to her car.

* * *

"You've only been in Vegas a few years, right?" I ask, recalling Sara's file. "Since you started here as a CSI?"

Sara glances over briefly, directing her Jeep over a rough portion of the trail before following a side road to the right.

"Yes."

I nod, "Seems like you know this desert inside and out. Know all the secret locations."

Sara smiles, letting out a light chuckle. "I think I just tend to explore a bit more than most people. The unknown has always been more appealing to me than the known."

Reaching over, I take her free hand in mine, resting our joined appendages atop the center console.

"You're like an Einstein's cross."

Sara glances over in surprise, perhaps not expecting the slightly abstract, and very nerdy, reference.

"So unique and rare," my explanation fills the Jeep. "I see the world differently when I'm with you – it's like all the hidden parts are revealed. Even the parts that I already knew existed appear different to me when I'm with you. And then there's you yourself. Getting to know you has been just like what happens with an Einstein's cross, where there's shifts in light and time, everything changing and moving as you get closer to it. Never sure what to expect from its mysterious nature, but never disappointed in what you see."

Sara's speechless, her eyes darting between me and the road. Squeezing her hand with a smile, I place a gentle kiss along her knuckles.

Sara lets the words hang in the air between us, the brunette swallowing tightly as her fingers some moments later lace their way between mine.

Nothing needs to be said, be spoken, the moment already resonating with our feelings.

"We're almost there," she says instead, voice barely a whisper.

* * *

"Seriously, how did you find this place?" I question in amazement, stepping down the last boulder to all but fall into the canyon displayed before us.

"By accident, actually," Sara smiles. "Got lost on a run, ended up here."

"You're lucky you aren't dead," I marvel for what has to be the fiftieth time since meeting Sara Sidle.

The girl is so reckless it's horrifying. Going running in the desert alone is risky enough, not to mention going on paths and in locations that you've never been. This is how most desert adventurers end up dead.

"I am. And so are you," Sara comments with a small smirk. "If I was dead you'd never have been able to witness this beautiful wonder."

Stepping closer, my gaze remains on her. "True."

Seeing that I'm looking at her, not the beauty around us she was referencing, Sara blushes slightly.

Being able to catch her off guard, make her blush, is one of my favorite things to do. She's always so stoic, so put together, I love these moments I catch her by surprise, put her off balance.

Leaning in, I place a gentle kiss along her lips, tracing my fingers along her blushing cheek.

Kissing me back, Sara shakes her head as we pull away. Clearing her throat, she gestures around us.

"The water's warm."

My eyes widen at her suggestion.

"Seriously?" I ask, eyes taking in the waterfalls dropping into this deep canyon from what seems like all angles. The red rock starting to glisten in the early morning sun rays pushing their way towards the horizon. The walls offer us complete privacy, their tall surfaces surrounding us on all sides, encircling the water into a secluded cove.

The water itself is a brilliant turquoise color, my geology lessons reminding me of something about dissolved lime in the water from the rocks making it that way.

"Only if you want."

Sara doesn't push, simply offering it as a possibility. The more I think about it, the more it sounds like the perfect way to wash away this day. To cleanse myself of the memories, the emotions, the frustrations. To let it go so that I can move on to the next person needing our help.

To let it go and enjoy all the wonders, all the beauty, all the _good_ this world has to offer.

Wasting no more time, I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it aside as my shoes, socks, and pants quickly follow. Thanking my lucky stars that I actually chose to wear matching lingerie today, I look up in time to take in Sara's expression.

"See something you like, Sidle?" I smile.

Clearing her throat, Sara immediately politely averts her eyes. "Shit, sorry…I didn't mean…"

Clearly flustered, she toys with her own belt hesitantly.

Stepping up to her, I place my hands gently atop hers.

"You're allowed to look," I smile. "I take it as a compliment."

Sara lowers her head, her eyes finally meeting mine.

"You should," she breathes out. "You're beautiful, Catherine. So…unbelievably beautiful."

Her words are spoken with such respect, such reverence. It's unlike any person I've ever been with. It's like I'm appreciated, cherished – not ogled or objectified.

Tilting her head towards me, I kiss her, feeling her hands place themselves gently along the bare skin near my hips. The sensation makes me gasp, and Sara is immediately leaning back to be sure I'm okay.

"Please don't stop," I tell her, beg her. "Please don't ever stop."

Sara's eyes search mine a moment further, making sure she's reading me, reading this moment, correctly.

Letting her see everything I have inside me, she swallows, nodding slightly as she leans in and takes control of the kiss.

Her hands run along my back, tracing along the sensitive skin there as her tongue finds its way to mine. My own hands find their way to her belt, taking it in my grip.

"You're overdressed," I mutter breathlessly, moaning as her lips relocate to my neck.

Feeling her mouth against my pulse point, I nearly lose all dexterity as I unfasten her belt, slipping her jeans from her hips. Helping her wiggle out of them, her mouth never leaves my skin, the heated trail of her lips traveling across my skin. It sends shivers through me, her ability to find all my sensitive areas unnerving.

Her hands trail along my sides, drawing up shivers through my body.

Grabbing her shirt, I all but force it briskly over her head and off her body. Somewhere along the way, Sara's shoes and socks were also tossed aside, leaving her in a similar state of undress as myself.

Feeling her lips on mine, I draw her close, fingers dragging lines along her strong back and forcing our bodies as close as physically possible.

"How deep?"

Sara pulls back slightly, trying to catch her breath as she takes in my question.

"The water," I clarify. "How deep?"

"About three or four feet in the spot directly below us, waist level," she gets out. "Deeper the further you go in."

Without a word, I move us back, placing Sara along the edge of the rock we're atop.

Raising a brow at me, she doesn't even look behind her, trusting me completely.

"We can stand?" I confirm.

Sara's eyes bore into mine.

"Yes."

She knows what I'm asking, her gaze again searching my own. She knows this moment is more than about the depth of the water, whether we can stand in it. She knows _why _that question was posed. The real question I'm asking, the real question I'm posing. When she sees the answers she seeks, she takes my hand.

"You're sure?" she asks quietly, gently. "If you're not ready it's okay. I can wait as long you need, Catherine."

I respond without pause. "I'm sure, Sara. I've been sure for a while now."

With one final look, assessing me for any last signs of hesitation, she finds none. Sara pulls me to her, stepping back as we both drop the short distance off the rock and into the water below.

Holding me closely, she easily keeps us both on our feet as we feel the water splash over us. The warmth catches me off guard even though Sara had told me about it. It's warm enough to feel like a hot spring, my body instantly reveling in the sensation.

Sara drops down, submerging herself completely before standing back up. Doing the same, I feel the warm water trailing from my hair and down to my shoulders, traveling lower until it disappears into the water by my waist.

Water dripping from her dark lashes, Sara takes me in, stepping closer until my back is against the rock face behind us. Her fingers gently trace my lips, taking everything in as she moves her hands to my shoulders.

Feeling her toying with the material there, she again silently assesses me. Then, taking the straps, she slowly lowers them from my shoulders before reaching behind me. Feeling the material released, I barely register her placing it up above me towards our other clothing still up on the rock.

Her eyes are on mine before they travel lower, assessing me for the first time. Her breathing hitches, her hands trembling as she traces the exposed skin.

"My God…" she gets out. "I've never…you're so gorgeous…"

Tracing my skin reverently, Sara kisses me gently, tracing her lips down towards my now bare chest. It's amazing how safe I feel in this moment, nearly fully on display, but not the least bit nervous or uncomfortable. I don't feel exposed, I feel protected. I feel cherished.

I feel loved.

Lacing my fingers through her hair, I grip the dark locks, holding her close as her mouth explores the uncharted skin before her.

Her hands lace around my waist, taking in the hem of my underwear where the waterline dances against my hips.

"Please," I get out, giving her permission.

She does, ridding me of my last remaining clothing.

The morning sun glistening around us, sparkling off the emerald water - the rocks, the water, all of it bathing us in warmth, I watch her. Her movements, her intentions, all of it reverent.

When she straightens back up, her nose toys with mine, our breathing ragged as our lips hover inches apart.

"I love you," she tells me, her hazel eyes flashing to mine.

She closes the distance between our lips, kissing me deeply, passionately.

Moaning into the sensation, I pull her body flush against mine, gasping at the sensation. Bare skin meeting, it drives my brain into chaos. Reaching around, I remove her bra, placing it above me. Then, I hesitate near her hips, knowing this is the last step, the last barrier between us.

Perhaps sensing my hesitance, Sara draws back slightly, placing her lips near my ear.

"I'm yours," she says, repeating her promise to me softly, the one she vowed not long ago. "All of me."

Needing nothing further, I pull her black boyshorts from her hips, removing the clothing.

When I feel the now unrestricted connection of skin between our bodies, I gasp. The sensations nearly overwhelming at this point. Sara's expression mirrors mine, the wonderment and adoration in her gaze nearly breathtaking.

Her hands trace along my hips, her right one trailing lower as she continues watching me.

She keeps her gaze on mine as I feel her hand reach the spot between my legs. Moaning, my hand clenches tightly against her shoulder as I feel her enter me for the first time.

Placing her lips against mine, she kisses me gently, letting me adjust to the wonderful pressure, the sensation of her inside of me.

Grasping at her back, I draw her even closer, increasing the pressure between us, my hips pressing into hers. Understanding my intentions, she deepens the connection between us and I find myself gasping, mouth all but biting into her shoulder to keep myself from losing all control.

"Sara…"

She notes the tremble in my voice, gently caressing my side with her free hand as she continues to drive me further and further towards ecstasy.

"Please," I somehow get out, mouth still clenching harshly into her shoulder.

Sara honors my request, my permission, using such care, such attention to me, it almost undoes me completely. Just as I'm hovering near losing all cognizant thought, she presses against my most sensitive areas, the world around me all but exploding.

"My God…" I get out, not recognizing my own voice. "Sara…"

She continues her ministrations, taking me to the edge and holding me there. Just as I'm about to beg her, she senses my need, finally bringing me over the edge. I feel everything in me surrendering as I climax, all parts of me now laid bare, laid open and released. The world an explosion of color, of light, of unbridled sensations.

I hold onto her, not sure I could stand on my own legs at the moment, feeling my body trembling as the waves of pleasure continue to echo through me, time after time.

"I've got you," Sara assures me, whispering near my temple. "You're safe."

I continue to ride out the waves of pleasure trailing through me as she holds me close, gently tracing her fingers along my back.

"Holy shit," I get out when my voice returns, the words still shaky as I try to come back down to earth from whatever the hell realm I was just elevated to.

Sara smiles slightly, looking a bit sheepish as she places her lips against my neck behind my ear.

"Was that…was I…"

"Don't you dare finish that statement," I turn my head to meet my lips with hers. "I think my body's reaction should tell you everything you need to know."

Sara returns my kiss, "You're sure?"

"Shut up and keep kissing me."

Sara smiles, eagerly obliging my request as I try to regain control of my body after what was literally the most satisfying experience of my life.

When I pull back I watch her, the rising sun creating streaks of glistening skin where the water clings to her tanned body. She's so beautiful, this place is so beautiful, all of it beyond any expectations I had regarding our first time. I knew I wanted it to be special, but this…

Her…

It's almost too much.

"You okay?" she asks, seeing the expression in my eyes.

Kissing her, I trail my fingers along her strong jaw.

"More than," I promise her.

Pulling back, I run my thumb along the bite mark standing out in deep red against her shoulder. Sara doesn't even seem to notice, her eyes focused on mine as we hold each other.

Without a word, I reverse our positions, placing her firmly against the rock wall behind us.

Seeing my change in expression, Sara raises a brow. "Catherine?"

"You think we're done?" I ask, my own brows raised. "You think this was just about me?"

Sara's eyes widen slightly, her breath hitching as she notes my expression.

"You don't have to…I didn't expect…"

"Just stop talking and let me touch you," I tell her seriously but gently, letting her see how much I want this. Perhaps more than anything wanting to be the one to bring _her _pleasure.

Taking this in, Sara searches my eyes, disbelief still coloring her features.

"How did I find you?" she marvels quietly, shaking her head slightly. "I don't deserve…"

"Shh," I calm her, leaning in and tracing gentle kisses against her chest. "Let yourself be loved, Sar."

Hearing my words, the same ones I myself said only a short time ago in her apartment, Sara stills beneath me. Then, just when I think I've misspoken, she places her fingers under my chin to bring my lips back up to hers. Kissing me deeply, I feel the surrender in it. The surrender in her.

Reaching down, I hold her hip in my hand, letting her see that she is also safe, she is also cherished.

She is also loved.

Some time later, I feel her body clench around me, her hands grasping desperately at the rock behind her. Eyes shut tightly, her head thrown back into the canyon wall.

I treat her with the same respect and reverence she offered me, gently and carefully bringing her to the edge. Then, with all the passion and pent up desires I've had in me, I eagerly carry her over it. Feeling her body completely surrendering to me, climaxing against me, it's perhaps the most humbling and beautiful experience I've ever had.

I hold her as she comes down, her hands trembling as they finally return to my body, holding me close as she breathes in haggard breaths against me.

"I…"

Sara's words trail off, the brunette shaking her head.

Eyes coming up to mine, she looks at me.

I see there everything I need to, everything she can't find words adequate enough to express.

"I know," I agree with her with a whisper, kissing her soft lips.

Holding her, we watch the sun rising higher above us, the water flowing gently around us as it cascades into the canyon.

This moment, this woman.

All of it.

Perfect.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	45. Chapter 45

**AN: Ugh, just when I thought the delay between chapters couldn't get any worse. So, so, so sorry. You guys definitely deserve quicker updates than I've been able to give - and I sincerely apologize. Between work, traveling, etc, the amount of time I've had to write has been scarce. And, as we are headed to the end of this story, I wanted to give these last parts the attention they deserve. Hopefully you will forgive the delay. **

**As always, thank you guys so much for all your support and kind words throughout this journey. Cannot express enough how encouraging and helpful it is when life gets crazy and finding the time to write seems impossible - you guys help keep the inspiration going.**

**As noted above, it's with mixed feelings I announce that this is likely the last full chapter of this story. There will be an epilogue to follow (hopefully in much less time than these last few chapters took me to post). It's been an absolute pleasure taking this journey with all of you - hopefully you've enjoyed it a little.**

**Since this story is coming to a close, wanted to run something by everyone. I've had a few requests for taking prompts in the past - including a few recently. If people are truly interested, I may open another story link on here (name it something obvious like "CSI: Prompts") and use each chapter to fill a prompt request. They would be one shot type of deals - aka one chapter per prompt, lengths varying depending on the prompt. I think that will work much better with my current schedule than another long multi-chapter story. Would do my best to honor and fulfill all prompt requests the best I can in the order they're received - only ask no crossover prompts as that would likely be a disaster. Let me know your thoughts and if you'd be interested.**

**Hope everyone is doing well. ****Take care and enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 45

_"To live we must conquer incessantly, we must have the courage to be happy." _

_Henri Frédéric Amiel_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"I could really get used to this."

Fingers running gently up and down Sara's exposed back, she smiles slightly in response, eyes still closed against the early morning light just starting to filter through my bedroom window.

"Hmm," she hums out sleepily. "All we have to do is get ourselves fired, then we can have all the mornings off work that we want."

Laughing, I rest my head against the pillow, watching the way the sunlight catches on the different chestnut tones in Sara's hair.

"Then we'd be enjoying our mornings in a tent when we can no longer afford our mortgages."

"I could live with that," Sara says.

Snorting, I gently tug on her hair with my free hand. "Well, GI Jane, some of us prefer modern amenities. Like running water. A toilet. A coffee maker."

Sara's brows furrow, her arm around my waist tensing slightly.

"Shit," she mutters. "I didn't consider the coffee."

Smiling, I wonder how it's possible to be so in love with someone so relatively new in your life. Yes, Sara and I have known each other for awhile now, and been through more together in the last couple months than most people go through together in a lifetime, but it still gives me such a strange sensation knowing how _safe_, how _at home_, I feel with her.

There's a lot in my past, a lot in my current life still, that unsettles me. But here, this woman lying with her arm protectively around my waist, she, despite being the thing that should unsettle me the most, is the one thing that doesn't unsettle me at all.

Leaning my head down, I place a soft kiss along Sara's temple, taking in the scent of her shampoo, the scent of _her_.

"I love you," I say quietly, knowing she can hear me in the silence of the early morning.

Sara's grip around my waist tightens, her thumb moving gently along my hip.

"Good," her voice filters through the air. "Otherwise the fact we spent an entire day and night doing...what we did...would have been very awkward."

Snorting, I shake my head at her, at this woman who never fails to keep me on my toes.

"What we did?" I question playfully. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Hmm," Sara raises a dark brow, finally opening her eyes to fix me with her hazel gaze. Watching me for a moment, she slowly leans down, placing her lips near my ear. "Do you need a reminder?"

Smiling, I feel her kiss gently along my neck, her body turning towards me to get better access.

"Maybe..." I get out, hating the way my voice hitches, betraying just how much power the brunette has over me.

Smiling slightly, Sara pulls back just enough to meet my eyes.

"I think that can be arranged."

* * *

KELLY POV

"Hey Cath!" I call into the house as I use my spare key. "I dropped Linds off at school, thought maybe we could grab a co-"

My words trail off into silence as I enter the kitchen, met with a pair of hazel eyes instead of blue.

"Oh," I try to keep my expression neutral. "Hi, Sara."

Sara sends me a nod, standing from the table as she places her mug in the sink.

"Catherine is upstairs," she tells me, her back to me as she rinses out the sink before placing her mug in the dishwasher. "She was still asleep when I came down, but you can check if she's awake if you'd like."

Trying to keep up my steady expression, I shake my head.

"No, that's fine, I'll let her rest."

Clearing my throat, I hesitate in the doorway of the kitchen.

"I, uh, I guess I should go then," I say. "Tell her I stopped by?"

Sara nods, hands pressing themselves into the pockets of her jeans.

"Unless…"

I pause, not sure I really want to finish the statement that I started. Really want to carry out the ridiculous idea passing through my brain.

"Unless you wanted to grab that coffee with me instead?" I pose, my body clearly not listening to reason this morning. "Since Cath's still asleep."

It's a peace offering, one that I think is long overdue ever since Sara took the step of coming to my office to clear the air between us. She's been forthright and open in regards to trying to move on, and it's time I offered her the same.

Seeing her watching me, I try not to shift under her heavy gaze. Just when I think she's going to decline, or make up some excuse, she slowly nods.

"Okay."

"Okay, great," I offer in what I hope is a steady tone, letting out a tense breath. "You want to walk up to that place on the corner? That way we can be nearby when Catherine wakes?"

Grabbing a sweater from the counter, Sara pulls it over her head, already making her way to the door. Taking this as agreement to my suggestion, I follow her out.

* * *

"So, you guys are good?" I pose the question a few minutes into the walk, no longer able to keep my silence.

Sara was at Cath's this morning, and I'm not naive enough to not have figured out she spent the night. And, I'm more than aware it's not the first time Sara's spent the night. However, as far as I knew, all the other times Catherine was still trying to keep things between them from getting intimate.

This morning, however, something feels different. Sara feels different.

"We're good."

Sara's answer is short, simple. I can't tell if she's purposefully being elusive or if this is just part of Sara's ever stoic nature.

"I heard that your coworkers found out about your relationship," I push, trying to get her to open up. "So you guys are official now?"

Sara's eyes narrow slightly, like she's trying to figure out where this conversation is heading. What my angle is.

"Yes."

At her one word, stilted answer, I finally stop walking.

"Sara."

Letting out a breath, Sara stops as well, turning to face me.

"I'm happy for you," I tell her honestly. "I'm happy for Catherine. That's all this is about."

I hope that Sara can see that I'm being honest with her, that this isn't some plot on my end. That I'm not judging her nor her relationship with Catherine. Not judging the progressions their relationship has been making, most likely including the progressions it made yesterday and last night if my suspicions are correct.

"Okay," she eventually says, eyes meeting mine briefly before she starts walking again.

Catching up, I let out a sigh. For all my statements about not trusting Sara the last time the brunette and I spoke about their relationship, I think Sara still has some trust issues of her own to work out when it comes to trusting _me_.

"Lindsey mentioned you built a solar system model with her the other day?" I say, trying to bring up a more pleasant topic.

But, I watch as Sara becomes perhaps even more tense.

"Yeah," she again answers succinctly.

"She had a really great time, Sar," I push further. "Spent the whole day talking about it. And you."

Turning on her heel, Sara faces me fully.

"What do you want, Kelly?" Sara finally gets out, her eyes matched with mine. "What do you really want to say? Or ask? Or whatever the hell this is about."

Eyes widening, I feel my hands raising into a position of surrender, more than caught off guard by this moment.

"I was just…" my words are hesitant, nervous, confused. "I was just trying to tell you she had a great time, that she loves being with you. And I'm happy to see you both getting along like I knew you would."

Seeing Sara's expression remaining tight, her hands tense at her sides, I shake my head.

"You're good for her, Sara." My words are honest, quiet, sincere. "You're good for both of them."

I sigh, letting out a shaky breath.

"I guess that's what I was trying to get at."

Sara continues to watch me, her face finally losing a slight bit of its edge as she angles her gaze downward. Perhaps finally realizing my intentions aren't at all what she assumed, or feared, they were.

"Hey," I call, reaching out and placing my hand on her shoulder. "Sara."

When she eventually looks back at me, I give her shoulder a squeeze.

"I'm not here to interfere with you and Catherine, or you and Lindsey. I'm not hoping that you fail, that Catherine and you don't work out. I…"

I send her a small smile.

"I'm pulling for you, Sara," I confess. "I really want you and Cath to work. You're the best thing that's happened to her since I met her. You make her happy. So, incredibly happy. And…you deserve to be happy as well. I want you both to be happy together for a long, long time."

Sara's response takes a while, and when it comes, it's hesitant.

"What changed?" she asks. "What makes you think I won't hurt them, that I'm not a danger to them?"

I consider her question, the question that's pointed but fair. The question that I think has been playing at Sara's mind this whole time, the one that's made her hesitant and wary of my affirming comments. After all, the last time Sara and I spoke about her and Cath's relationship, I was honest in my lack of trust for the young CSI.

"I think I'm realizing that Catherine was right," I state. "If you were going to hurt her, you had plenty of chances before this. She pushed you time and time again, professionally, personally. You faced some of the hardest times of your life recently, with her there prodding and meddling all the way through it. If you were going to snap, fight back, that would've been a perfect time."

I shake my head, "But you didn't, even when she got physical with you, you didn't. I think I'm finally willing to see the person that's standing before me, and not the person that's in that file you gave Catherine. The person that was your past."

Sara's gaze remains even, tense.

"But past dictates present, right?" she challenges.

"It does, and I think your past _does_ dictate your present, Sara," I tell her, watching as her brows furrow at my apparently contradictory statement. "But I think I'm finally realizing it dictates it in a positive way."

Now looking conflicted _and_ confused, Sara's eyes are dark.

"I think everything you went through in your past is what's keeping it from happening in your future. I think you lived through hell, through the worst of people and the vile things they can do to one another, and instead of it making you hard or violent, it did the opposite. It made you never want to be those things, made you hyperaware of yourself and being in control around those you love. Never allowing yourself to be to them what those people were to you."

Sara's gaze falters, her eyes shifting away as she tenses under my touch where my hand remains on her shoulder.

"Your past was everything you'd never allow yourself to do, to become," I get out. "And it's time for me to stop judging you for things that were done _to you_. To stop being suspicious of you for things that happened_ to you_, things that you had no say in, no control over. You've done nothing to warrant those suspicions, you personally never did a single thing wrong towards me or the people that I love. What was done to you wasn't your fault, Sara, and I need to stop making you pay for it all over again in your adult life."

Sara's body is still, her jaw tightening as she swallows against her emotions, head turning to the side to hide the expression in her eyes.

"You know about my brother…"

"I do," I tell her, getting to the one issue that's truly been the point of contention between us. All this time, this is the one thing I've never been able to reconcile regarding her past. "And that's what scared me the most about you, about your past. That you were capable of something like that, of killing another human being."

Sara takes my words, not moving under the weight of them as she continues to gaze off to my left.

"I told Catherine I didn't understand the decision to take a life, that I could never do it."

I pause, trying to plan out my words to best express what I want to say.

"I think I was naïve to think I knew what I would do regarding a situation I've never been in. When I think about Lindsey, or Catherine, and what I would do if they were in danger…"

I trail off, shivers running through me at the mere thought.

"I think it's unfair for me to judge when I've never been put in that position. And, it's unfair for me to judge you for the decision you made when you were."

I place my other hand on her other shoulder, holding her in place.

"Bottom line, what you did, whether right or wrong, was not malicious. Was not provoked or initiated by you. You reacted to a situation, to a threat against the people that you love. Who am I to judge that reaction when I've never had to be in that awful position myself?"

I try to get her eyes to meet mine, but she's still looking to the side.

"Like I said before, Sara, you're not a bad person," I shake my head. "You're anything but."

I trail off, waiting to see if she's going to say anything, but she remains silent.

"And, honestly, Sara," I confess. "I think what really made me realize what an idiot I've been is when Catherine told me recently about your sister when we were talking. It came up in conversation and she told me that your sister cut you out of her life after what happened?"

Sara's jaw tenses even further, this clearly not a topic of conversation she's comfortable with.

"I was disgusted that someone could cut you out of their life for protecting your family, for protecting _them._ You likely saved your sister's life that night, and now she doesn't speak to you? I was so pissed off at this person I've never met for treating you that way. But then I realized…"

I steady myself, getting this final part out.

"Then I realized I'd been doing the exact same thing to you. Wanting you out of Catherine's life for actions that sought to protect, not harm."

When I trail off, the world around us goes silent, neither one of us speaking. Finally, I muster the courage to break it.

"I don't judge you for what you did that night, Sara," I whisper, giving her full absolution from any judgement I've ever had against her.

The world remains silent between us, her head lowered, almost in shame or regret. The dark emotions running through her almost palpable.

"Someday, Sara, you need to stop judging yourself for it, too."

At that, Sara's body tenses, her shoulders jerking so tightly that my hands almost lose their grip. I know right then that I've hit directly into Sara's vulnerable spot - the source of her anger, frustration, darkness. It's not directed at me or anyone else, not really. It's directed solely at herself.

For all my judgements, for all her sister's judgements, I think the one person who's been judging her the harshest is herself.

Sara tries to turn away, this conversation hitting much too close to home, but I hold her firmly in place.

"Stop," I soothe, holding her as her body trembles tensely under my grip, her jaw working so tightly it must be painful. "It's okay to feel, Sara. To let yourself be forgiven."

Her hands raise up, tight fingers clutching towards her eyes when she realizes she can't turn away under my tight grip. Dark hair falls across her temples, further obscuring her features. But, I don't need to see her expression as her shaking gets worse, betraying the emotions she's feeling.

"Shh," I get out, throwing caution to the wind as I pull her to me, wrapping my arms tightly around her. "You're okay. It's okay to let go, to stop holding all of this in."

Holding her firmly, I run my hands along her back, easily encompassing her thin body in my arms.

"Stop blaming yourself, Sara. All these years. You need to stop torturing yourself and let yourself be forgiven."

Feeling her shaking against me, I close my own eyes and simply hold her. Offer her the support that I should have offered her ages ago. Support that I think very few people in her life have given her. I suspect that Catherine and I are the only people who even know about her past, besides her sister who was there. And, with her sister and I both having turned our backs on her as a result of it, that left only one person who's ever accepted her as she was. Accepted the person that she is.

She needs to know that number has changed to two.

Holding her tightly, I keep myself steady, trying to offer her all the support I can convey.

* * *

"Hey," Catherine greets as we enter the house. "Where did you two head off to?"

Seeing her ready to start the coffee maker, I reach across and hand her the extra coffee in my hand.

Seeing the cup, and the order written on the side as her favorite, she lets out a smile.

"Question answered," she laughs, taking a long sip. "My God this is good, bless you both."

Smiling, we let Catherine enjoy her coffee for a few minutes before she puts the cup down. Looking us over, she seems to be searching for evidence of any sort of altercation. I'm sad that she worries about such things, but knowing she's not wrong to have thought it.

But, hopefully that's going to change. I think Sara and I finally reached a breaking point, one that we can now finally rebuild from.

"You okay?" Catherine asks, her eyes fixing on Sara, the brunette still looking a bit unsettled.

The brunette apologized to me about fifty times on the way home, embarrassed for what she perceived as a loss of control, weakness. When, in reality, what I witnessed was an already impossibly strong woman only become stronger.

"Yeah," Sara assures Catherine, giving her a small smile as she takes her place next to her at the counter.

"You sure?" Catherine asks, gently taking Sara's hand.

The two of them together have such a connection that it's obvious to anyone witnessing it, half their words are unspoken, the conversations happening mostly between their gazes.

"I'm sure," Sara says, giving Catherine's hand a squeeze as she places a gentle kiss into the blonde's temple.

While what Sara and I shared was a mutual attraction, a genuine connection, this is different. What she and Catherine have is beyond that.

What they have is love.

Catherine's arm wraps itself around Sara's waist, holding her close as she works her way through her coffee. All of us talking, joking, laughing as we enjoy the morning together.

All of us finally content and at peace in the ways I suspect we each needed it.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading. See you at the epilogue.**


	46. Epilogue

**AN: Here we are, at the end. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and supported this story - would not have been possible without all of your encouragement. You guys are simply wonderful and appreciated beyond words.**

**Sounds like there was some decent interest in doing a prompts story. I plan to create the story link soon - again will be something like "CSI: Prompts" if that's not already taken or something similar. Feel free to send your prompts to me via private message or by reviews linked to the story itself. All prompts are welcome, only ask that there be no crossover prompts and that prompts be C/S character focused (versus other characters and/or pairings) if possible. Nothing against the other CSI characters and/or pairings, just would rather stick with a C/S focus if possible. Lastly, if you want your prompt to be anonymous, please state that in the prompt - otherwise I will be giving credit for the prompt idea to you at the start of the chapter.**

**Until we meet again, everyone take care.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

EPILOGUE

_"Love is life's end, but never ending." _

_Herbert Spencer_

* * *

CATHERINE POV

"When did this happen?" I ask with an exhausted sigh, dropping down onto the couch and placing my legs atop the suitcase in front of me. "How is Lindsey old enough to be headed off to a summer internship?"

Sara smiles, looking over at me from her place at the kitchen counter.

"I still can't believe that she's in high school, let alone going to be a senior next year."

"My God we're old," I mutter with a groan.

Sara tosses a dish towel at me, landing harmlessly in my lap.

Looking over at her, I watch as she picks up the packet of paperwork next to her, reading through the pages for what has to be the billionth time.

"No matter how many times you read through them, you're still not allowed to go with her."

Sara smirks at my comment, her eyes still roaming over the pages in front of her.

"I'm so jealous, though," she confesses honestly. "This is NASA we're talking about. A whole summer of aerospace engineering, quantum physics, astronomy…"

Laughing, I shake my head. "You and I are so very different."

Sara smiles back at me, lifting her eyes to show me the page that outlines the different activities planned out for the program. "I would've killed for something like this when I was growing up."

Sara rarely talks about her childhood, about anything in reference to her growing up, and I take in her features carefully. Seeing nothing but enthusiastic intrigue and interest, I relax.

"You and Linds," I shake my head. "Two of the nerdiest nerds I've ever crossed paths with."

Sara sorts, tossing another dishrag my way.

"I'm so proud of her," Sara says seriously, shaking her head as she closes the packet back up. "This is not an easy program to get into. They only accept a couple students out of thousands of applicants each year."

"So am I," I tell her sincerely, having loved watching Lindsey blossom and develop into the beautiful, intelligent, kind young woman that she is today. The road hasn't always been easy, but I couldn't be more proud.

Seeing Sara toying idly with the other copies of paperwork set out on the counter, I watch her suddenly stiffen. Remaining frozen in place, she doesn't say a word.

"Sar?" I question after a few silent moments.

Concern filling me as Sara doesn't even seem to hear me, I head into the kitchen to cautiously stand next to her.

"Hon?" I question, placing my hand gently on her shoulder.

Startled from her thoughts, Sara turns to find me looking at her with concern.

"You okay?" I ask worriedly.

"Hmm?" she gets out, placing the papers back into a neat pile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She doesn't look fine, in fact her eyes look like they're doing everything they can to hold back the emotion slowly pooling within them.

"I, uh," she clears her throat. "I'm going to go check and make sure we have everything ready in the car for the trip to the airport."

She's already checked the car half a dozen times, letting me know this is Sara's way of escaping.

Letting her go, I watch her with anxious eyes, both loving and hating how Sara always holds herself together no matter what's going on inside her.

Looking down, I try to figure out what the hell just happened.

Seeing nothing but paperwork, I'm about to give up on figuring out my stoic partner when a certain form catches my eye. It's the form on top, the one Sara was looking at when she went still. Glancing over it, at first nothing seems unusual. It's a standard demographics sheet with Lindsey's information on it, filled out in my daughter's neat handwriting.

Then, at the very bottom, I suddenly understand.

Under emergency contacts, Lindsey has my name listed, my phone number, and under "relationship" she's put "Mother."

Below my name, I see Sara's, along with the brunette's cell number. Under relationship, Lindsey has neatly written "Mother."

Closing my eyes, I feel the moisture welling within my own.

As amazing as it's been watching Lindsey grow over these years, it's been equally amazing watching her relationship with Sara grow. The two are almost inseparable, always hanging out when they are both home, going off on adventures together when they both have the day off. I've never heard my daughter laugh so much and light up so brightly than she does when she's around Sara.

It took Sara awhile, but the first time she said "I love you" to Lindsey I remember distinctly. It was a few months after Sara moved in with us, the two of them watching a movie on the couch before Lindsey's bedtime. It was nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, just a typical weekend movie night. When it came time for bed, Sara helping a sleepy Lindsey up the stairs, I headed to our own room to change into my pajamas.

Crossing out into the hall just as Sara was finishing turning off Lindsey's lights, I heard the words that Sara often still struggles saying to this day. But, that night, there was no hesitation, no tension, only honesty.

Pure, sincere, heartfelt love.

And, over the years, their relationship has only grown even closer, the two of them finding more in common with one another than I think either of them had ever anticipated.

Now, years later, Lindsey ready to head off to NASA headquarters in Washington DC for the summer, I flash back to the two of them sharing their first full day together – right in this very house, building a model of the solar system.

How fitting.

Smiling, I wipe the moisture from my eyes, heading out to find Sara leaning against the porch railing, looking out into the bright Nevada day.

Circling my arms around her from behind, she relaxes into my touch.

Who would've thought, after the way we started out, that Sara and I would end up here. Together.

In those early days, I'd have thought one of us killing the other was a much more likely outcome for us than this. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined this life that we've built, this deep and inexplicable love that goes beyond words. Beyond soul mates.

Holding her tightly, I simply rejoice in the fact that we _did _somehow find each other.

This woman, who persevered through most her life having essentially no true family of her own, has completed ours.

"Hey lovebirds," Lindsey calls loudly as the front door swings open, her suitcase in tow. "It's time to head out!"

Smiling at us, she ruffles Sara's hair playfully, knowing how much Sara hates it.

Turning, Sara places a gentle kiss along my lips, earning a groan from Lindsey and a smile from the brunette. Then, separating herself and grabbing her keys, she locks up the house, turning to face us.

"We all ready?"

Her statement remains open ended, all of us taking this moment in, smiles along each of our faces as we perhaps realize just how far we've come.

How far we've come and all the journeys yet to go.

I can't wait to see the next chapters that unfold.

THE END

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


End file.
